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hwavsg4ch4n · 1 month

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Awkward|| L.M

Note: hi guys, this is actually a music series (more info linked) bonus. I usually write multiple versions of a smut per song and choose which one fits the vibe the most. this one was actually supposed to be for SYNERGY (linked), but I reworked it and made it better for "Awkward". I haven't been here for a while and decided that I'm the kind of writer that likes to pop in randomly lol. I'm thinking about turning this into a mini-series separate from the music series. After you read this, please follow the link at the end and vote on the pole if you think this would be a good mini-series! ps. word count of 4,783... get a snack.

Disclaimer: I have decided not to no longer put any tags in my works to avoid unneeded spoilers. I will only warn when there are extremely triggering aspects in my work. Read at your own discretion.

Synopsis: You've been single for years, it's sad really. coming up with excuse after excuse as to why you should be okay. Then society introduced the appearance of 'soulmates', and somehow everything got worse. But then there's your boss, what should you do with him...

this is a mature work of fiction (18+), this does not represent any real-life figures, this is just for entertainment.

Music series bonus <masterlist>

You tilted your head back, gulping down the rich red wine as the brisk night air glided across your naked arms.

What was love? It was stupid, at least that’s what you always told yourself. Love is dumb, for the weak; and you weren’t weak. You wished you believed your thoughts, but you couldn’t help but crave love. What it felt like, sounded like, what it smelled like, what it tasted like.

Jealousy was a disease and you hated to admit that you were practically hospitalized and in a coma from said disease.

However, solidarity was alright sometimes. It was rewarding, no arguments, no having to worry what your partner was up to if they were taking care of themselves properly. You only had to worry about yourself… is it bad that was your biggest con to single life? Only having to worry about yourself.

You told yourself this for years. That was until early last year, when the CDC came out with a new phenomenon. They called it, soulmates. You thought it was corny. You watched as scientists explained the symptoms, and how it starts. How it feels, how you can differentiate your feelings blah blah blah, it was bullshit in your eyes. But not many felt the same.

The day after the news of soulmates reached the public, your office became littered with pairings. Mia from accounting and Felix in your branding apartment paired up instantly. Everyone saw that one coming. They were frauds, had to be, the CDC said their research is still new, meaning they’ll need long-term volunteers that they’ll compensate. That's when fake soulmates started appearing. You called bullshit when the news stated authentic soulmates are now being deemed rare. The CDC just wanted to cover its tracks, hiding another economic decline. Soulmates weren’t real.

Your loneliness grew worse because of your slight rebellion. You didn’t put yourself out there, scared someone would falsely claim you as a soulmate. It’s nights like this where you want to let yourself fall in line. Here you are, alone at the Valentine’s Day company party for another year, this time due to self-sabotage. You already hated this holiday, but of course, science had to make it worse. On the balcony sipping expensive wine your boss bought for everyone, you tried your best to drown out the jazz music and giggles as coworkers showed off their engagement rings.

Minho watched you through the glass door of the balcony with hesitancy. He tuned out the conversation he was dragged into. “Mr. Lee, what are your opinions on soulmates.” He looked at the second department secretary, taking in her inquiry, “I’m not quite sure.” He was telling the truth, he didn’t think much of it, if it was true great, if it wasn’t, it didn’t really affect him in any way, probably just another pity thing. The marriage statistic was getting low, he read it in a paper. Minho took one more sip from his whiskey glass before setting it down and excusing himself.

Everyone in the office knew that Minho, the COO of this company, took a liking to you; everyone was jealous in fact. The kind, extroverted, unmarried, painfully attractive man… liked you. The seemingly cold, work-a-holic, introvert of a woman. He’s liked you since before the news came forth with their studies, yet you were oblivious. Your self-esteem is so low that you wouldn’t dare to even think a man like Minho would see you in such a way, not when people are trying to claim the bachelor every day.

You looked over your shoulder as the balcony door opened. You smiled politely, “Mr. Lee, how are you?” You asked gently. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your voice, not even trying to hide the shivers that trailed down his spine at your tempt voice. “I’m doing well, but I couldn’t help but feel bothered when I saw you out here alone. Are you not cold, Ms. L/n?” You watched as he made his way next to you, leaning against the metal railing. He gazed at the city skyline, awaiting your answer.

You took another sip of wine. “It’s a bit chilly, but I can manage.” Short and simple, polite. That’s all Minho got from you. He's never wanted a person to rant to him for hours so badly, but that would be seen as unprofessional. He clears his throat, standing up straight. “Are you not having fun?” He asked. Maybe it was the wine that compelled you to answer him differently than you normally would. “To be honest, Mr. Lee,” He raised his brows, turning to you fully. “What is it?” You let yourself answer. “I don’t really favor office parties.” You chuckled before downing the last bit of your wine.

Minho frowned before biting his lip. “I hope it’s okay that I call you by your name,” He started, “Sure.” He gulped dryly before giving you an offer. “Would you like to get out of here, y/n?” You finally faced him, brows furrowed as your eyes lingered across his figure, taking him in.

White button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, black slacks, dark auburn hair fallen into his eyes, the eyes that were surveying you softly. It would be strange, to ride off into the night with your boss on the night the company is rumored to rename the festive party ‘soulmates night'. But you’ve had about 3 full glasses of wine, and you’re bored plus inquisitive.

“Where would we be going?”, he smiles.

After bidding an awkward goodbye to your coworkers, and avoiding questioning looks about the two of you leaving together; you finally made it to Minho’s car.

“Wanna catch a late movie?” Your head tilted in question, he drove out of the parking lot the humming of the engine fills the silence. Smirking to yourself in disbelief, you agreed.

The ride was filled with conversation, the longest non-work related conversation you’ve had with this man. He spoke of everything you didn’t think he’d speak of. How he missed home, how living in a bustling city was fun, but the sound of waves beat the sound of honking horns. You couldn’t help but ask him questions, you didn’t care if they were the right questions. You were comfortable, too comfortable. Was it the wine you downed? Maybe the grand looking air freshener in his car. It hurts your pride to admit that it might just be him. He smelled nice and spoke to you gently in that voice he would use to remind you of your lunch hour.

You took in a breath as his hands on the steering wheel came into view, “Oh sweet jesus”. You pressed yourself into the black leather seat. It’s the wine, it has to be the wine. Minho turned to you as he finished parking, “You ready?”

No one was there in the theater, no one but the two of you. You couldn’t focus on the movie, all you could focus on was how you were alone with Minho, completely alone with him.

You were zoned out until you were pulled back to reality. “Are you enjoying the movie?” He whispered, not looking in your direction, his eyes glued to the projected screen. You couldn’t help but ask bluntly, “What are we doing?”

Minho looked at you, you felt his gaze so you looked back. “Mr. Lee, it’s soulmates night.” He frowned, chewing on his popcorn. His heartbeat quickened, were you implying something?

It was dark, but you could see him like there was the light of a halo above him. “What do you wish we were doing, Y/n?” Why did he ask you that? Why did he ask like he wanted to fulfill a wish?

You looked away, parted lips and furrowed eyebrows. He couldn’t see your face properly, he took your silence as rejection, and maybe he read you wrong. “I don’t mean to upset you, I apologize. Let’s finish the movie, then I’ll take you home?” You didn’t want to finish the movie, you weren’t even watching the boring movie.

Your heart was pounding, was this what proper desire felt like? It felt different from your crush on the Grey’s Anatomy guy. Was this what being wanted felt like? But he’s your boss… You felt a surge of warmth, a shallow buzzing feeling accumulated in your fingertips, must be excitement. Your conscious almost coming alive, fuck it, give in. You did just that.

Biting your lip you breathed in deep, “I don’t want to continue the movie.” You stated in a whisper. You couldn’t see it clearly, but Minho grew worried, worried he scared you off completely.

“Oh- would you like to, would you like for me to take you home now, Miss. L/n?” He didn’t want to use your first name, afraid of abusing his power. It made you flinch, “I thought you said… you were gonna use my name from now on?” You whispered. Finding his eyes in the slim light provided by the screen.

He licked his lips, although it was out of his nervousness, the action made you gulp. “My apologies, Y/n.” you weren’t aware of it yet, but you held all the power at this given moment. He’d do anything you told him to with no question.

“I do want to get out of here, but I don’t want to go home Mr. Lee.” You said, standing up, and grabbing your purse. Minho stood up as well, eyes never leaving your form as he studied you for unspoken answers.

“I would like to see where my boss lives, I’ve always been curious.” your lashes fluttering, as you peered up at him with a quick pulse and sweaty palms. What if you read him wrong, what if he dismissed you and fired you on the spot? What if this whole ordeal was just because he pitied you for being single for every Valentine’s Day party?

“Well, I should let you overcome your curiosity, shouldn’t I Y/n?” He said with amusement. “After you.” He moved out of the way, letting you lead the way out of the theater.

You continuously asked yourself what you were doing on the drive to his house. Well, you knew what you were doing. You were lonely, and tired of it, taking up a messy offer that could end up in you getting scammed by this man. You’ll apologize in the mirror later. Hitting rock bottom was something you would worry about tomorrow. Your hazy mind only lets you think about his veiny hand gripping the gear shift.

What would happen if you took it upon yourself to place him where you wanted him?

Working up the courage, you sucked in a breath before allowing your fingers to trace his cufflinks, trailing your fingers around his wrist. His fastened pulse boosted your ego, looking to see his reaction. Minho remained focused on the road, with no intention of stopping you as he blinked and took more deep breaths than a calm human would.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips as you brought his hand to the warm flesh of your warm thigh, just under the hem of your black tweed skirt. Your blood pumped at the thought of how he’s letting you have your way. He wanted this too, to touch you. His hand was warm, and comforting. You liked how pretty it was on your skin, admiring the visual as your nails traced his veins.

Minho didn’t mean to squeeze, he did it subconsciously. He didn’t realize he did it until you gasped shallowly, clenching your thighs around his hand and looking up at him with the lowest gaze he’s ever seen from you.

“Sorry.” He muttered, rubbing his hand along the inside of your thigh in an attempt to soothe, not wanting to get you too worked up just yet. But his touch had the opposite effect. You didn’t want to wait anymore. It was known that Minho’s house was in the rich part of the city, all the way across town. Even Though it was a mere 30 minute drive, the distance felt like an eternity.

“Minho,” Minho gulped dryly. Your deep tone sent shock waves through his body, he enjoyed how his name dripped off your tongue. “Yes, Y/n?” His voice remained steady, not wanting to ruin something that could get so good. “I want you to pull into the park, I wanna watch the sky with you.” You whispered. Minho’s heart grew soft as you continued to trance his veins. He nodded silently, ready to take every command you asked of him.

You watched as he parked, the view of the city was beautiful, but that wasn’t your focus as of now.

There was a silence, loud, swallowing the city sounds in the distance. Your body shifted, rotating towards him. Minho turned to you, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly as he took in the view of you. “Kiss me,” Yes you were being blunt, and bold, but you didn’t care. Who cares?

You grinned as Minho pulled you on his lap, his strength not surprising you; considering how his arms looked way too confined in every dress shirt he owned. Your eyes shut as his lips collide with yours. Soft, buttery, warm, so so warm, and buzzing… your lips were buzzing. The feeling of him was clouding your judgment. Minho’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. He tilted his head, kissing you deeper. Pulling back slightly, he watched as you followed him. Minho smiled, softly chuckling. You opened your heavy lids, growing shy to see his gaze. Your lips parted as he pushed you even closer, rubbing against the growing tent in his slacks, you jolted as your core began to buzz as well. Your lips molded with his once more, and the sounds of what you presumed to be fireworks sounded in the distance.

His breathing was heavy as you disconnected to catch your breath. Minho’s hands tilted your head to the side slightly, breathing you in softly, lips grazing your skin as you shuttered, your fingers gripping his sleeve. He licked his lips before kissing your collarbone, traveling up your neck, absorbing every gasp you let out.

You feel his hand slide to the back of your head, angling your face down so his eyes can meet yours as he lays his forehead on yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, y/n.” Your heart panged, searching his eyes for truth. He wanted you, Minho, your boss, wanted you.

Your hands traced his bottom lip, and you blinked softly, “Take care of me then, yeah?” You whispered. He smiled gently, gripping your jaw and pulling you back.

The both of you suck in a breath as Minho presses his lips to yours once more, his hand pushing your head impossibly closer. He wanted to feel you, meet with you in ways he’d only imagined. You were letting him give you what he thought was impossible for him. Truthfully, he would’ve liked to ask you out on a proper date. But this would suffice if it was what you wanted from him.

The two of you kissed for a while, gradually feeling and touching each other. Feeling what was never seen. Your body grew warmer, the buzzing centered to your stomach as you bunched up his shirt, wanting to feel his skin bare against yours. “Minho,” It didn’t mean to sound like a plea, “What is it? What do you want me to do?” His voice was breathy, low, needy, and ready to please. You couldn’t get enough. “Off.” You tugged at his collar. Barely even a second later, he began to unbutton his shirt. You wasted no time placing your hands on his sculpted chest once exposed, gulping as you stared at his skin. Absentmindedly gliding your manicured fingers across him.

Minho watched your every move, whimpering as your fingertips flicked his nipples. Your nails left gentle scratches, he licked his lips at the sight. He can’t recall ever wanting someone so badly, to the point he was painfully hard, closing his eyes and throwing his head back at the slightest touches you granted him.

You wanted his reaction intensively, feeling his twitching member under you as you pinched and rubbed his nipples. His chest rose and fell at a somewhat hurried pace, the tips of his ears grew red, and so did his lips as he couldn’t stop licking and biting at them. It’s not like the action helped keep him quiet. His heavy breathing began to get mixed in with soft whimpers.

You smiled, “Who knew you’d be so sensitive.” You mumbled. “Sorry… uhm. I’m not usually like this.” You grinned at his hushed awkwardness. “Trust me, I don’t mind.” You whispered back, your hands continued tracing the outline of him. One by one you left open kisses on his neck, traveling up behind his ear. You sucked at his warm skin, “I hope the secretary doesn’t see what I’m leaving on you Mr. Lee, I think she might have a crush on you.” You said playfully, smiling against his clammy skin, sucking another bruise. Minho’s hands travel to the bottom of your skirt in response, pulling the fabric to bunch at your waist. He squeezes at your thighs as you find the spot that meets his shoulder and neck, his breath shallows. His hips bucking as you suck and nip at the skin. You were hot to the touch, it heightened the feeling of you on him.

Minho isn’t sure how you got the one up on him, but he lets your hands wander to the buckle of his belt. He looks up at your face, your eyes full of determination as you swiftly take off his belt, unbuttoning his pants. He can’t help but smirk as he feels heat center in his stomach, “You’ve got me right where you want me y/n,” Your movements slow as you start to push his pants down to his ankles, “You’re the only one who’s ever gotten me like this.” Minho watches you bite your lip as he feeds into your ego. His eyes shoot down as you grasp his erection through his boxers. “Haven’t been this hard in so,” his voice shakes as your grip tightens “So long, fuck baby.” Your lips part at his words, looking up to see his head thrown back at the seat. You tap at his tip, the fabric starting to stick to his precum as you admire the bites you left on his skin.

“Minho,” You call out softly, he opens his eyes to see you staring at his member. The look in your eyes almost makes him ask if you want him to take over. Your eyes were glazed over, your lips pouty as you tug at his boxers, he smirks slightly. “I’ll get these out your way, sorry baby.” Your pussy clenched around nothing at the use of the pet name again, it feels so good to be called that, the buzzing shoots to your core before centering again. It almost felt like a boost of arousal, you were too enraptured by the man in front of you to care.

Your hands returned to his stiffened member as soon as it sprang free, you felt Minho tense at your touch. You looked up at him as you began to stroke him lightly. His eyes were hooded, he watched your hand quickly become slick with his arousal as you pumped at a careful pace. Minho licked his lips, noticing through his foggy mind how you still remained fully dressed. Your thighs only exposed because he decided to tease just once. Yes, his words earlier were to edge on your performance, but they were true. Minho has never been on the receiving end, he loved giving, if you told him to take over he’d do it gladly. More importantly, his need to please was strong, if pleasing you meant stepping back a bit he’s happy too. However, he didn’t anticipate his sensitivity to your touch. He hears himself whimper as your pumping speeds up, the rising heat traveling down to his member. He jolts as the pleasure intensifies. A hand hovers over your pumping one before holding himself back and placing it back on your thigh.

He’s starting to lose a battle, don’t cum, not yet, she’ll get bored soon and touch you somewhere else, don’t fucking cum. He chanted to himself, one of his hands moved to your ass, gripping as his other kept shelter on your thigh. You watched as he shut his eyes tight, his lips parting as he huffed out puffs of air. You smiled in triumph as he began to shake his head side to side, starting to lose his internal war, “B-baby… y/n, I’m gonna c-cum baby,” His voice was hoarse.

You tilted your head, sliding your pumping up to only his tip. His thighs jolted, his eyes opening as he started to look at you for pity. He only saw you looking at his dick dreamily, the heat in his stomach pulses. He swallows down his need to overcome you, opting to let himself relax.

Minho cursed, he groaned deeply, throwing his head back. His brain started to become unmanageably fuzzy.

“Y/n.” He whispered, licking his lips.

His smooth thighs flexed.“You’re so good baby,” Your lips parted at his soft whimper.

You grin, slowing down your pumping, giggling as he whimpered trying to fuck your palm the heat causing his tip to pulse. “You like me huh, Minho?” Your words were teasing. You were met with an eager nod. Cooing, you slipped off your underwear. You looked into his brown eyes, just when you thought he let himself surrender fully, he had some fight left in him.

He gripped your waist, biting his lip as he guided you over his throbbing member. You let him sink you down onto his warmth. You whimpered, Minho watched carefully, looking for signs of you needing him to take over. Only for him to get knocked down again, his brows furrowed as you brace a hand on his blushed chest, beginning to ride him. He stared at your clothed chest, your nipples hard enough for the outline to push past your bra and blouse. With heavy breaths his eyes traveled up your littered neck, finally landing on your blissed face. “Pretty,” He whispered, so soft you barely acknowledged it. His brain was swirling with only the image of you, the smell of you reminding him of a warm cabin.

You looked down at him, giggling at his starry eyes and beads of sweat, you were unaware of the state his mind was in. You were enthralled by the thought of him being so pliant. Never in a million years did you think your boss would be under you with a flushed face and a throbbing dick. You feel his dick pulse as he squeezes his eyes shut. Your hands make their way to his jaw, “Are you holding your cum from me, Mr. Lee?” His member throbs again. Your voice and playful words have him shaking his head, gripping your ass so hard you're sure there will be a mark, it stirs you on. “Want you to... To cu-cum first.” He whispered. Your walls flutter and tighten around him, Minho’s eyes snap open, lifting you off him, and you forget about his strength for just a moment.

You peered down to see his jumping member and quivering thighs, precum leaking and he tried to catch his breath. You didn’t let him, you swatted his hold away, ignoring his groan as you seethed him back into your warm hole. “Ah, fuck I can’t hold it, baby.” He rasped out, listening to how wet you were. You didn’t answer him, tuning out his winning, starting to chase your own high that's been building up while watching him. The buzzing started to spread. You gripped his shoulders, pushing yourself closer to him. Minho’s hand placed itself on your sweaty back, bracing himself. His other hand slid down to your thigh, grazing where he was buried into you. His grip tightened, spreading your slick puffy lips slightly. “Min, that's so good.” You whimpered. He hummed, burying his head into your neck. He shifted, widening his legs the best he could, and started to meet your thrusts.

Your mouth formed an O, tears forming in your eyes as he hit the gummy spot you never reached on your own. Before you knew it your body began to go numb from the pleasure, the buzzing reached every inch of you in what felt like a millisecond. Minho felt your muscles detense, he whimpered as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He chuckled tiredly at the sound of your babbling. You finally needed him, you were close and god knows he is too. He fucked into you like you’ve unlocked a different part of him.

“Gonna c-cum min.” You whimpered, “I know baby, I Know.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, feeling his self control finally coming to an end. He grunts, taking a hand and reaching between your radiating bodies. You moan so loud you're sure any late night hikers would be able to hear you. Your thighs shake as if it feels you’re physically experiencing the color red, the buzzing now being heard in your ears, distracting you from your release covering his thighs as yours shake. Minho grunts before he bites down on your shoulder, seeing sparks of deep green as he squeezes his eyes shut, spilling himself into you as he starts to hear crackles of fire.

When you close your eyes you're met with the visions of the man that’s under you. Images of his life, his milestones, you feel what he felt all in the blink of an eye. The images seize, and you’re yanked out of the dreamy state, catching your breath. You gulp, slowly facing him. His eyes meet yours, “Did you see that?” he whispered. You nodded, your fingertips still buzzing. “I-is this that soulmate thing?” his voice slightly above a murmur. Your body tensed, “What?” He looked into your eyes, he could almost feel your fear, “U-uh nothing.” He lifted you off him gently, ignoring what the sight of his release dripping from you did to him. Minho watched as you straightened yourself out in the passenger seat of his car. His eyes glanced at the foggy windows before returning to your now tense form.

Were you his… soulmate? He thought it was just a speculation that scientists made up to give the single population hope. He cleared his throat, putting his softening member back into his boxers, and lifting his pants up. “I’ll, uhm… I’ll drive you home.” Minho licks his lips nervously as he puts on his wrinkled button down. He looked at the time on his watch, 12:57am. He moves to turn on the engine.

“You believe them?” Minho glanced your way, taking in your question. “Do you believe what they say on the news?” He blinked, thinking of a proper answer as he started to drive out of the parking lot. “I mean,” He turned to enter the freeway. “If it’s on the news, there has to be some truth.” You took in his words, rolling down the window. “Y/n, the… symptoms that they described, that’s what just happened.” You frowned, looking out the window taking in his words. “I saw you, your middle school graduation,” you glower at him, his eyes were on the road, only glancing at you briefly. “I saw your first, and only relationship…” He paused, seeing your hands clasp together nervously out of the corner of his eye. He changed the topic, “When I… finished, I saw green, a forest green. And I heard fire, like a campfire.”

You gazed at his side profile. Without a word, you looked forward. You gave him the directions to your apartment.

As he pulled into your driveway, you grabbed your purse putting it on your shoulder. Minho said nothing when you opened the door as soon as he came to a stop, not even giving him a chance to put the car in park. You stepped out, your heels clacking on the pavement. You took in a deep breath before bending down, coming into his view again. You looked at his longing eyes, waiting for you to say anything to grant him peace of mind. “I’ll see you on Monday Mr. Lee.” With that, you closed his door. Gulping down anxiety as you steadily walk to the entrance of your apartment.

Link to vote for this to become a series [click on me]!

#skz smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #Spotify

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sunshine-bones · 10 months

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🌻 Actual tips for edtwt 🌻

🌻 Reblogs aren't the same thing as retweets. Post ''threads'' exist, but it's rare to have one person reblog their own post.

🌻 DMing people without asking is normally pretty rude, and not a lot of people are familiar with the DM system on here (called messaging) - there's been a lot of creeps on here in the past, so be cautious in messages.

🌻 People post their general thoughts in tags, so where you'd retweet and write your thoughts in the tweet then add hashtags - here it all happens in tags.

🌻 Most people have their intros and stats either in their bios or as their pinned post - the ''unpinning at x weight'' trend doesn't really exist here.

🌻 On desktop, you can customise your blog and add your own code, themes ect. it's really fun and a good time killer, but be aware all blogs look the same on mobile.

🌻 A bunch of features (search, post archiving ect.) have been broken for years. Don't worry, it isn't just you.

🌻 ED tags change every so often, but ''edblr'' has been the main tag for YEARS now. If you ever get lost, searching that and then clicking around will help you find active tags. The blue butterfly emoji has also been a backup tag for a while now, but the whole ''ricecaketwt'' ''lemonwatertwt'' thing doesn't have a tumblr equivalent.

🌻 If you click the three dots on the side of a post, you can see what date and time the post was made - it's perfectly normal here to reblog, like and respond to old posts.

🌻 Posting pictures of s/h is okay, but please make sure it's tagged properly. Tumblr has it's own tagging system, but it has to have a trigger warning for that to work.

🌻 If you're on desktop, downloading XKit rewritten is a massive time saver - it allows you to automatically add tags, blur out pics (eg thinspo) so you need to click on them, and a bunch of other useful things.

🌻 ''Thinspo imagines'' exist on here, which are basically short stories about what it would be like to be at your UGW in various situations. They're tagged as such, and some of them can be a little cheesy, but still really cute and often motivating.

🌻 For male anas and ftm/transmasc anas, the tags for that are as follows ''trans ana'' ''ftm ana'' ''male ana'' ''nb ana'' ''malespo/malesp0'' - pretty self explanatory.

🌻 There's no word count, but if you're writing a really long post, it's normally good manners to put a ''read more'', just so it doesn't clog up people's dashboards.

🌻 The concept of moots doesn't really exist - there are mutuals, but it's a lot more casual and there's no expectation for you to actually interact with your mutuals personally, aside from liking and reblogging some of their posts.

Last of all, have fun guys! This is a terrible disorder but we're all trying to get through it as best we can. Stay away from people who try and be creeps, give dangerous advice, or condescend you for coming from a different platform. Be safe and feel free to ask any questions you might have 🌻

#Thinspo #tw ed #I wanna be weightless #edtwt #edblr #edblrr #ed no sheeran #thinsp0 #ana #tw ana diary #ed diary #4na #4n4 #malespo #male ana #ftm ana

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sailor-aviator · 4 months

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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Ten

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Mentions of death, Language, Talk of mating rituals, Talk of potentially life threatening situations, Smut (oral, f receiving), Dirty talk, Confrontations. I think that's it, but please let me know if I've missed anything!

Word Count: 4k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The rain was more of a mist in the following days, setting the mood that had fallen over the rest of the town. Seagulls cried off in the distance and the waves crashed almost dully against the drab beaches of North Island. It was like the life had been sucked out of the little town in a matter of seconds.

Had anyone liked Mandy? Not particularly, but the idea of someone you’ve known your entire life meeting such a violent and unexpected end was sure to make people feel some type of way. Maybe not overwhelming sadness, but perhaps a mixture of shock and fear. That could have been anyone after all.

You watched waves crash into the shore from your perch on some of the rocks outside the Floyd home. They had departed earlier that morning, dressed in all black and looking worn.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Susan asked you, her eyes rimmed red from the tears she had been shedding nonstop over the past couple of days. You had given her a tight-lipped smile.

“I’m sure, Susan,” you murmured, nodding slightly. “It wouldn’t make sense for me to go, anyway.”

There was no love lost between you and Mandy. In truth, she despised you, and you couldn’t say that you didn’t feel something similar towards her.

Still, the thought of her lifeless body laying there on the beach had tears springing to your eyes.

You had sobbed into Bob’s chest, shoulders shaking and fingers becoming stiff from clutching him so hard. It wasn’t until a pair of gentle hands rested on your arms that you opened your eyes, revealing concerned, familiar green staring back at you. You flung yourself into Jake’s arms, your tears and sobs starting anew as he held you tightly, stroking a hand over your hair as he murmured assurances into your ear.

You felt ridiculous for it, really. You hadn’t even known Mandy all that well, and there you had been, in hysterics as if you had while everyone else stayed strong for you. So, no. It didn’t feel right to attend her funeral, so you stayed behind, allowing those who knew her the chance to mourn her properly.

The mist clung to you, seeping down into your bones until a chill settled over you and you could no longer keep the shaking at bay. You trudged up the wooden stairs to the back of the house, the grey light casting a gloomy glow throughout the different rooms as you made your way up the stairs to change.

You had promised Nat that you would swing by Mrs. Cambroni’s shop to pick up the masks for the Moonlight Masquerade that weekend.

“I would go,” she had murmured, her face drawn and a distant look in her eyes as she spoke, “but I have to be there.”

“I understand, Nat,” you had assured her. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help in any way that I can.”

So now you found yourself walking down the nearly empty streets toward the boardwalk. Most people were tucked away in their houses or in the various businesses that didn’t require one to be outside in the rain, and in some ways, you envied them.

You had expected this summer to be uneventful at best, spending time with Bob and his childhood friends while swimming and winning prizes on the boardwalk. It was supposed to be a fun, but overall underwhelming time spent with new and old friends before you went on to continue your studies with Bob.

Instead, you found yourself in the middle of a nightmarish fairytale filled with mermaids and murder. It chilled you to think of how many times you had been dragged beneath the waves and the one time you had. But, you wondered if all would be well now, as horrible as it seemed. After all, it was Mandy that had tried to kill you that morning by luring you into the water. Would it really be that big of a stretch to assume that she was behind the other murders as well? You supposed not, considering that seemed to be the line of thinking everyone had adopted. They tried to steer clear of that conversation for the most part, but you had overheard Nat and Bradley talking in hushed tones the day before about delayed claiming. They had stopped when you walked into the room, and before you could question them further, they had directed you out the door with the promise of ice cream.

They should have known by now that you wouldn’t drop it.

The bell above the door chimed to signal your entrance, and you shuddered as a wave of air-conditioned air washed over your still damp form. Why you thought changing would help, you weren’t sure, but it never failed to hope. The static laced pop song from the radio that sat on the counter filtered throughout the shop, feeling almost suffocatingly normal to you now.

You immediately headed for the display table near the front. An array of masks sparkled in the fluorescent lighting of the shop, and one in particular stood out to you. It was an off-white fabric that was embroidered with baby blue and pink flowers, different colored pearls embellishing the fabric. It amazed you how perfectly it matched the dress Nat had picked out for you, as if someone had known you’d need it.

“I was wondering when you’d stop by.”

You whirled around to meet the green eyes of Cole. He smiled as you placed a hand over your heart, willing the muscle to calm down.

“You startled me,” you groused half-heartedly, offering him a smile. He peered around, frowning when he saw you were all alone.

“You by yourself today?” He asked, brows pinching in concern. You shrugged, turning back to the mask and picking it up from the table.

“Everyone else is at the funeral.”

“Right,” he murmured, walking over to stand by you. “My aunt went to pay her respects.”

“You didn’t want to?” You questioned, earning a sigh from the older man.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” he hesitated, “but it wasn’t like Mandy was well liked, was she? I certainly wasn’t her biggest fan.”

“You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” you replied, voice almost a whisper as the gruesome scene that plagued your thoughts once again flashed in your mind’s eye.

“The dead aren’t here to listen,” he snorted, shoving his hands in his pocket. Your eyes flickered over to him before turning your attention back to the mask in your hand. The two of you stood in silence for a brief moment as you ran your fingers over the mask.

“Has anyone told you yet why we throw on the Moonlight Masquerade every year?” He asked, turning to face you.

“Isn’t it just another excuse for everyone to get dressed up and wasted?” You countered with a snort. Cole grinned, plucking the mask from your hands.

“We celebrate it,” he began, hovering the mask over his face, “to remind us that the sea people walk amongst us undetected. That they could be anyone, and we would never know unless they revealed themselves to us.”

“I suppose it’s great for the local businesses to make some money too,” you chuckled. Cole smirked, handing the mask back to you before turning and heading towards an accessory display a few shelves over.

“You know,” he drawled, casually running his fingers over the different necklaces before grabbing one off the line, “it would be a shame if your look was marred by that mark on your neck. Why don’t you wear this too?”

“The mark?” You balked, your hand flying up to reflexively touch the mark in question. It tingled underneath your fingers, and you couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran up your spine.

“Yeah,” he smirked, walking back towards you. “It actually reminds me of the claiming marks in the legends.”

“Does it?” You hummed. “You know, I’ve been hearing a lot about it, but no one has told me anything about it.”

The two of you stood in silence once again as Cole studied you, his face neutral and not giving anything away.

“What is it you want to know?”

“How does it work?” You asked, feeling excitement coil in your belly at the prospect of finally having your questions answered.

“Well,” Cole drawled, “let me see. You’ve heard the stories about the intention bites?”

You nodded.

“Good,” he continued with a nod, “well, the claiming bite is the next stage, the permanent stage. The sea people don’t give it without being completely sure about who they’re giving it to. People don’t accept it without being completely sure it’s what they want.”

“And why is that?” You breathed, leaning in closer, practically vibrating with anticipation. Cole smirked at you.

“Because it could kill you.”

You jerked back, eyes wide. “What?”

“The process can kill you,” Cole said as if he were talking about the weather.

“How?” You frowned, clutching the mask in your hand a little tighter.

“Well, it’s the whole process of it all, really,” he sighed, letting his eyes drift closed for a moment. “In order for a sea person to claim their chosen mate, they have to drag their partner down, down, down beneath the waves, cutting them off from air until they’re to the point of death. Then, they breathe life back into them, bringing their partner to the surface where the bond is sealed with a physical act followed by the claiming bite.”

You stood in shocked silence, processing what he was telling you. How had the others not told you any of this? Were they just going to let you walk into this blind?

“Are you okay, Skipper?” Cole asked, concern laced in his features as he watched you. You took a shaky breath before offering him a small smile.

“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, Cole. Thank you. I should get going though. I promised Nat that I’d meet her later.”

“Don’t forget your masks,” he smiled, gesturing towards the table. You let out a laugh that was much too high pitched, wincing internally at how freaked out you sounded.

“Right,” you sighed, picking out a mask that you thought would match Nat’s dress, quickly scurrying after Cole towards the counter.

“I’ll see you around then, Skipper,” he smirked, handing you the paper bag once you had finished paying. You gave him a small wave before turning and all but fleeing the store, the bell chiming ominously after you.

Cole’s words lingered in your mind as you walked along the boardwalk with Jake a few days later, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as you tucked yourself into his side. The sun hovered below the horizon, casting the last little bit of light onto the beach before the darkness of night took hold.

“Are you cold?” Jake asked, leaning down so that his breath brushed against the shell of your ear. A small shiver ran up your spine at the sensation, and you pressed yourself a little closer to him with a shake of your head.

“No,” you hummed, a content smile on your face as the two of you continued to walk. “‘m perfect, actually.”

“Yeah,” he smirked, green eyes sparkling as the two of you neared his home. “You are.”

You let out a rather unladylike snort as you trotted up the stairs and onto his porch. Jake grinned at you, trapping you between himself and the porch railing as he leaned in, arching an eyebrow at you.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you giggled. “You’re just really fucking corny, sometimes.”

Jake’s mouth dropped open in fake outrage, sending you into a round of giggles as he pressed into you further, his knee slotting in between your thighs as he did so. Your giggles cut off into a small gasp, eyes growing wide as he leaned in close enough that his nose brushed yours.

“You think I’m corny?” He challenged, a devilish smirk finding its way onto his lips. You let out a shaky breath, unable to tear your eyes away from his as you nodded slightly.

“Yeah,” you replied, cursing yourself for losing composure so quickly. You shifted, unwittingly brushing your clothed core against his thigh and letting out a moan at the pressure against your clit.

The change in Jake was instantaneous. His green eyes began to glow as he let out a low growl, hands gripping your hips slightly harder as he deliberately rolled them back down onto him. You cried out, hands flying to find purchase in his shirt.

“That feel good, sweetheart?” He asked, the smirk once again finding a home on his face. “You like when I rub you right there?”

“Jake,” you whispered, eyes hooded with lust as you attempted to move against him. He tsked at you, holding you firmly in place as he gave you an admonishing look.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted, leaning in to hover his lips above yours, his breath washing over you in hot waves as you let out a needy whine. “Good girls don’t take without asking.”

His lips pressed against yours then, slightly chapped but firm against your own. His tongue slid along your bottom lip, and you immediately granted him entrance, groaning as his tongue licked into you, stroking against your own. After a moment, Jake pulled back, nipping at your bottom lip before looking at you expectantly. It took you a moment before you realized what it was that he wanted.

You leaned up, capturing his lips with yours for a moment before leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses from his lips, down to his jaw, and down the length of his neck.

“Please, Jake,” you whimpered. “Please make me feel good.”

“I don’t know,” he hummed, teasingly. “It doesn’t sound like you really want it.”

You let out a frustrated grunt as you once again attempted to roll your hips down against him, only to have him stop you. You nipped at the base of his neck, soothing over the bite with your tongue. Jake stiffened against you, and before you could ask what was wrong, his hands slid to grasp the underside of your thighs, hauling you up and through the screen door, lips moving eagerly against yours as he did so.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you let out a gasp as you felt his length press against your thigh. Jake made a beeline for the stairs, and looking back later, you were impressed with how easily he managed to get the two of you up the stairs without incident. Jake maneuvered the two of you into the room you had slept in just two weeks before, and you realized in that moment that it was his room.

Jake sat you on the bed, pulling away with short pants of breath as he looked at you with hooded eyes.

“I promised I’d take it slow,” he murmured, gaze searching yours, letting you make the next move. You reached for him, pulling him towards you by his shirt.

“I don’t care,” you said firmly, shaking your head as you pulled back to look at him once more. “I don’t care. Need you.”

Jake’s lips connected with yours once more as he laid you down on the sheets, running a hand up your side and underneath your shirt to lay just below your breast. His lips left yours, mimicking your actions from earlier and trailing his lips down from your jaw to your neck where his mark lay. He ran his tongue gently over the mark, earning a keening cry from you as you arched into him.

Jake quickly pulled your shirt up above your head and making quick work of your braw before latching on to your right nipple. His other hand came up to tweak the other, sending rivers of pleasure straight to your core as you writhed and moaned beneath him.

“Jake!” You cried out as he scraped his teeth over the pebbled nub before switching his attention to the other. Your hands flew to his hair, fingers curling in the soft, blond strands as his hand moved down to unbutton your shorts, helping you slide them down your legs and onto the floor.

He peeled himself away from your breasts, trailing his tongue down the expanse of your stomach as he settled in between your thighs, eyes trained on your clothed core where you could feel the wet spot on your panties. Feeling heat pool in your cheeks at his hungry gaze, you attempted to close your legs, but Jake caught each knee in one hand, prying them back apart and leveling you with a glare.

“Don’t hide from me,” he growled, leaning forward to run his nose along your covered slit, inhaling deeply. He let out a strangled groan as you let out another gasp at the action, chest heaving with anticipation. His nose pressed into you, nudging your clit and sending you arching into his touch. You were sure it hurt with how tightly your fingers held onto his hair, but Jake was too lost in the bliss of you, mouthing at your center and reaching a hand down to push your panties to the side.

“This all for me?” He asked huskily, glancing up at you with hooded eyes. You swallowed thickly, only able to manage a nod. You let out a yelp as Jake frowned, turning towards your right thigh and biting down just hard enough to leave an imprint.

“I asked you a question, sweet girl,” he warned, soothing over the bite with his tongue as he gave you another glare from the corner of his eye.

“Yes!” you cried out. “Yes, it’s all for you.”

“I made you this wet, huh? Did I make my pretty girl feel good?” He prompted, peeling your panties down your legs.”

“Yes,” you sobbed, arching into him, desperate for some type of relief, but Jake was firm, holding you down as he toyed with you.

He hummed, darting his tongue out to give an experimental lick at your dripping slit. You let out a strangled cry, pressing your face into the sheets as he repeated the action.

Jake let out a low growl as he dove in, tongue fucking you as his nose repeatedly bumped against your clit, his strong hands keeping you open and on display for him. Your breaths came out in pinched cries as he drove you closer to your high, the coil inside your belly pulling tight. You nearly sobbed as he added a finger, plunging it into your depths, seeking out that spot inside of you.

“So tight,” he whispered, almost reverently as he focused his attention on your clit, adding a second finger and hooking them until you let out a wail. You felt him smirk against you, and if he wasn’t making you see stars, you’d have smacked.

“Did I find that sweet spot, pretty girl?” He chuckled, honing in on that spongy spot deep inside of you. Your release was quickly approaching, and your hips rocked up to meet his thrusts your hands moving to find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into the skin.

Jake let out a low groan as your walls fluttered around his fingers, the sting of your fingernails driving him mad as he chased your release almost more eagerly than you did.

“Need you to come for me, angel,” he murmured, sucking your clit back between his lips and adding a third finger. The stretch of his fingers had you keening, and he sped his thrusts up. “Look so pretty like this, all strung out for me. Can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock, this pretty little pussy milking me dry. I’m never going to get enough of you, I swear it. I’m gonna keep you nice and full, and you’ll feel me for days. Now come for me, sweetheart. Come all over my fingers.”

And with a brush of his teeth against your clit, you were sent careening over the edge with a high-pitched cry, your eyes scrunching closed as the coil in your belly finally snapped. Jake lapped up your release eagerly, tongue licking up everything you had to offer. You trembled in his grip, thighs shaking from excursion and aftershocks as the blond licked you clean. You let out a shaking breath as he pulled his fingers from you, licking your juices off with a hum.

“So sweet,” he murmured, eyeing you up and down with a small smirk. You fought to catch your breath, reaching out clumsily for him. He leaned into your touch, allowing you to pull him into a lazy, lust-filled kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, moaning at the flavor and reaching a hand down in between the two of you to grip his length. Jake let out a moan before pulling back abruptly, pupils blown as he looked at you.

“No,” he said, shaking his head, and you frowned up at him.

“What?”

“No, I-” he paused. “I don’t want our first time to be like this. I want to do it right.”

You watched him for a moment, your mind still reeling from the orgasm he had just pulled from you. Slowly, you nodded, pulling him down into another kiss, your fingers lacing through his hair to massage his scalp.

“Okay,” you nodded against his lips.

Jake smiled down at you, repositioning the two of you so that your heads were up by the headboard, facing each other as he traced his fingers absentmindedly over your skin. The two of you stayed like that for a while, just basking in each other's presence. You allowed your mind to wander, and it inevitably drifted to what Cole had told you the other day.

“It could kill you.”

“Jake?” You whispered, peering up at him from where you were nuzzled into his neck. He hummed, one eye slinking open to look at you.

“Is it true that the mating bite could kill me?” You asked, and Jake’s eyes shot open. He sat straight up, leaving you scrambling to follow.

“Where did you hear that?” He demanded, brow furrowed as he watched you wearily. You frowned up at him, your own brow pinching together as you regarded him.

“So, it’s true,” you muttered. Jake shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s true that the mating bite comes with its risks,” he conceded, chewing on his bottom lip. You waited patiently for him to continue, curling your knees up to your chest as you watched him. “It’s rare for it to kill someone though.”

“But it does happen?” You prodded, lips pursed. Jake glanced at you before looking down at his lap.

“Very, very rarely,” he admitted. “The process becomes more dangerous the longer someone goes without taking a mate.”

“Like you?”

Jake looked at you fully, a look of hurt mixed with desperation painted on his pretty features. He reached for you, and you allowed him to cup your face in his hands, his thumb running gently over the apple of your cheek.

“I would never do anything to hurt you,” he murmured, eyes pleading as they darted over your face. “Don’t for a second believe that I wouldn’t kill for you, Skipper. You are everything to me.”

You studied him silently, eyes tracing over the hard lines of him. Jake had never given you a reason to not trust him. Quite the opposite, in fact. The desperation in his voice had a part of you regretting even bringing up the topic in the first place. You smiled up at him softly, running your fingers over his jawline, his day old stubble rubbing against the pads. You leaned up to place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, laughing lightly as he tried to chase your lips with his.

“I trust you,” you whispered.

A/N: Friendly reminder that I am in the process of redoing my tag lists. If you have not signed up for the new one, please do so by clicking the link at the top of the post! Please be sure to have your age/age range and blog filled out or I will not tag you and more than likely block you. As always, please comment and reblog to show your support! Updates are also posted on my AO3 account under sailor_aviator. If you enjoy my work, consider leaving me a tip!

Tag List: @goldenseresinretriever @fanficfandomlove @bobgasm @stoptaking-the-good-names @dempy @sky2nd @hookslove1592 @bellaireland1981 @justherebecausesafarisucks @jupitercomet @atarmychick007 @katfanfic @devil-angel-winchester @mamachasesmayhem @sorchathered @blue-aconite @topnerd03 @smileybouquet @roger-that-cap @crybaby-21 @nouis-bum @aworldwideapart @aviatorobsessed @eloquentdreamer @els-marvelvsp @seresinsbrat @maximus890 @na-ta-sh-aa @rosedurin @rhettsluvr @djs8891 @jakeseresinlover @roosteraloha @fudge13 @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @avengersgirllorianna @senawashere @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @tgmavericklover @zousa123 @cmroczkab @yuckosworld @pinkdaisies1106 @the-philthepill13 @boiolay @kmc1989 @toomanytocountsposts

#mmats #meet me at the sea #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #top gun hangman

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thelittleliars · 1 year

Text

Love forever? | Pt.1

Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader Yelena Belova x fem!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Hospital, angst, fluff

Words: 1.2K

Summary: Natasha forgets that you are her wife after she suffered a head injury.

AN: Hi, I'm back 😁 I plan this to be a series but only if y'all want it too? And if I do it pls tell me if you want to be added to the tag list.

Part 2

You always knew this day would come. The day Natasha got hurt so badly that it would shatter your world. She was alive but you were the one who was barely breathing. The scene where Steve knocked on your door, all bloody and beaten up was constantly playing in your head. You knew right that second that nothing he'd be saying was going to be something good. "Natasha is alive." Those were his first words to you. You were glad he started that way since you honestly didn't know what you had done to him if he started any other way. Though his next words were all blurry to you. The words hospital, explosion, blood and head injury stood out for you and started to worry immediately. When he said "Natasha is alive" he actually meant she is alive for now. A head injury could go wrong fast, you knew that first hand since your twin sister died of an head injury after doctors said she'd be fine. You didn't know if you should go to the hospital to be with her or stay away since this all os very triggering for you. It didn't help that you and your wide had a nasty fight the last time you saw her. Would she even want me to be at her hospital bed? I hurt her pretty badly with my words and I do know that I regret saying them but her actions and words also hurt me.

In the end you decided to go to the hospital and be with her. You were an awful wife in her eyes anyways so not going would only proof her right even more. If only the past couple of months didn't happen then you both would still be in the bliss of an 'innocent' honeymoon phase. It wasn't until two days after staying with her and sleeping in the uncomfortable hospital chair, that she woke up determined. "Y/N," she tried to speak with the tube in her throat. You pushed the button for a nurse to while you tried to calm her down. After them removing all the tubes out of Natasha and drinking some water, she was on her feet looking frantic. "Yelena." She muttered over and over again. "I need to find Yelena. Y/N, will you help me find my sister?"

Your heart broke at her words, realizing that her memories were gone. She thought she was back to the time when the Avengers undid Thanos' snap. Back then, which was only almost four years ago, Natasha also got hurt pretty badly, she was treated in a hospital too but you were very close friends there.

"Yes of course I will but Nat, listen to me carefully before you go off running alright?" She sat back down on her bed, looking at you intensely wishing you'd hurry up with what you wanted to tell her. "I'm going to get your doctor to inform him about what we want to do so he can discharge you properly. Then we have to talk where you last saw Yelena before we rush out into the chaos that's currently happening outside, alright?"

Natasha had the urge to ignore your advice and sneak out of here to find Yelena fast but she had a huge crush on you and somehow that made do the right thing by listening to you.

After going out her room and talking to the doctor about her memory loss you called her sister. She came as fast as she could, probably driving like a madwoman through the city. You both decided it was the best for her to stay outside just yet so you could explain Natasha what had happen in peace. "Y/N not to rush you or anything but I really need to go and find Yelena now."

You nodded your head. "I understand and I will help you, I promise. There is something important I have to tell you first though."

"More important than finding my sister?" Your wife started to get upset with you. The serious look you gave her was enough to give in. "Ba-.. Natasha is the last thing you remember how you got injured during the big battle against Thanos?"

"How is this relevant? Wait we won right? Or did I just dream about that?" The color drained from her face, she looked at you like a ghost that was horrified. "Yes we won.. the thing is that happened nearly four years ago."

Natasha wanted to laugh in your face, laugh at the bullshit you were saying, there was no way that happened four years ago. She grabbed all of the wires and iv's attached to her and ripped them all out, you rushed to her knowing she wants to escape from here. "I need to find Yelena." Was all she said but you didn't let her, it made her angry that you hold her back. After telling you once again she needed to find Yelena, you literally had to hold her.

Yelena decided to come in as soon as she heard noises along with shouting. The sight of you on the ground looking shocked and scared made her heart ache. She knew that it was Natasha's doing, Nat probably did one of her signature moves on you and Yelena knew that some of those moves hurt a lot when you come in contact with the ground. "Natalia, what the hell?!" Yelena came rushing to you, helping you get up but before she could ask you if you're alright you ran away. Nobody could blame you though. You basically just lost your wife and then she hurt you physically for the very first time.

Yelena visited you at your and Natasha's house in the evening. She told you about how Natasha stayed with her until she would remember more. One thing Yelena had yet to tell you was your wife wanted a divorce. Nat saw pictures of you three together at Yelena's apartment. Once iconic photo in particular was how she figured out you two were married. It was the photo of Yelena making a gagging face when you two had your first kiss at your wedding, it was clear to see you two standing the background. The blonde widow counted you as her sister in law, she loved you being her sister and additionally good friend.

It all came back biting her ass a couple of days later when Natasha demanded the signed divorce from you. You were broken at the news of your wife wanting a divorce and your sister in law hiding that information from you. You felt betrayed by both. Yelena broke out in tears the second she saw the devastated on your face. "I-I'm sorry. I couldn't tell you. You're my sister and I didn't want to be hurt even more. I honestly thought Natasha would change her mind about it."

"Yel oh god what am I supposed to do now?" You broke down in her arms, needing the closeness and comfort from her. The fact that you didn't seem upset with Yelena was a huge relief to her, she was afraid of losing you. "I don't know Y/N.... one thing I do know for sure is that you won't lose me okay? This is real, this sister bond is real to me and I love you too much to let you go."

You cried in her arms to the point you physically couldn't cry anymore. There was a silent agreement or swearing that you were never gonna loose Yelena.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x y/n #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x fem!reader #Love Forever

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veampa · 1 month

Text

L Lawliet nsfw alphabet

L is so babygirl.

@the-coldest-goodbye creds for the template!!!

G/n reader

Character(s)- L

sorry that this is lazyyyyy

Trigger warnings in tags!!!

(Lil extra but the Matt somnophillia smut is in my drafts, not finished yet :< sorry for making y'all wait)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)- Very gentle yet not too affectionate, I just can't see him being all kissy and touchy after sex, a few kisses here and there maybe some cuddles too.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)- He doesn't have a favourite body part on him buttttttt he loves your nipples (i feel like he's a nipple guy LMAO) plus he can place whip cream on 'em.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)- Likes using cum as lube.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)- Is into anal.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)- He gives me virgin vibes :p, not that experienced when he met you, sure he knew what to do but you were his first.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)- missionary :3.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)- Mostly serious but still funny with the way he says shit.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)- Doesnt do much to groom down there, just a small trim.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)- Not that cuddly, a few kisses here and there mixed in with some body worshipping.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)- Jerks off like once a week, doesn't do it that much, mostly too busy working on the Kira case.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)- food, asphyxiation (i feel like he'd be into it, idk why), body worship.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)- Anywhere private.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)- Lingerie, it looks SO good on your body like DAMN.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)- this ties in with asphyxiation, wouldn't choke you to the point where you pass our.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)- giving, doesn't mind receiving, but he prefers giving cause he can lick off raspberry sauce:3.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)- Mix but he prefers more slow, he's not into quickies. if he's fucking you he's gonna do it properly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)- Like just said, he doesn't like quickes, much prefers longer sessions.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)- Nope.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)- My guy can stay awake for days, so you best believe he can last a few rounds.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)- Doesn't own any other than a vibrator thats used on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)- 95%. It's amusing to see you whine and squirm:3.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)- A little vocal, just depends where yous are.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)- Has you sit on his cock for hours when he's working (in the most awkward posture)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)- 6 and a half inches. not too girthy but still got some thickness, slightly curved to the left, uncircumcised.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)- Not that high tbh, focuses more on his work.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)- He doesn't, bro just sits and stares at you.

#death note #death note smut #l lawliet #L lawliet smut #L smut #tw asphyxiation #tw food kink #tw #tw smut #l lawliet x reader

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blingblong55 · 8 months

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Improper -141

Based on a request:

I'm currently sick with the flu🤧 And made some tea this morning, but the American way lol. And it got me thinking about how upset the British guys would get watching an american!reader try to make tea (puts a mug of water in the microwave, then adds the tea bag to the hot water) Would they be gentle and show reader the correct way or would they stare at reader appalled and disgusted 😂😂

A/n: The gasp I let out, babes why would you do us brits like this!! you're breaking my heart here, but since you're sick I'll give you this pass, also a special delivery pookie<3 Get well

GN!Reader, american!reader, trigger warning for my brit readers, sick!reader, platonic!relationship, soldier!reader

You have been volunteering at the medic bay, wanting to help some of the new recruits get over this sickness and just 2 days later, you laid in bed, sick with the flu. Your nose is all red, tissues pilling up on your desk. "Fuckin' shit, it's always me." You complained and got up from your bed. You walked to the common room where the team was. "Hey guys" your voice raspy and low. "Mate, you al'right?" Gaz asked from the sofa and all you gave him was a thumbs up.

You grab your designated mug and pour water from the bottles of water by the fridge, You open a packet and put the tea bag inside the mug. The microwave does the work and as you stand and wait, Price walks up to you, getting a piece of the snacks Soap made. "You looked like shite, kid." he chuckles and eats some of the food. "Feel like shit too."

Ghost walks in, ready for his midday tea when you take your mug from the microwave. All the men in the room gasped. "What're yer doing, mate?!" Even Soap felt offended.

"Y'all never made tea like this?"

"We have a bloody kettle for this reason!" Ghost shows you the item and tosses it on the stove. You watch as the four men all argue against you. "Bloody Americans always want the easy way out!"

"I mean the fuckin' microwave!" Gaz's voice squeals a little. "It's just tea, calm your tits." and that comment earns another gasp from the men.

In unison, "Just tea!"

You nod and reach for the sugar, Price shakes his head. Ghost reaches for your mug and dumps it out on the sink. "Bad human!" he scolds you. You laugh, you never knew the stereotype was an actual thing. "Now y'all will tell me you really got offended over the Boston Tea Party."

"It's tea, mate." Gaz looks at you disapprovingly and pats your back. "It's time we teach our little American 'ere to make proper tea, yeah?" All men nod and Ghost slowly and I mean slowly as if you were some child gives you a step-by-step on how to: use the kettle, understand when the tea is ready, that you must pour milk first and then the tea.

They all watch as you drink a sip and wait for your comment. "It's..tea, I still don't get why y'all are so pressed about this?"

"Look 'ere Hollywood, it's not just tea, we have customs 'ere for them. You must always follow these steps, yeah?" Gaz tried to talk you out of your usual American ways. You sigh, "Fine, but you better not try to change my way of fucking talking, fuckin' brits." You walk back to your room. The tea was possibly the best you've had and it did make you feel better now.

Meanwhile, the team tried to console a devasted teammate Ghost. "I can't believe I trust this person with my life on the field and they can't make one proper tea!"

Price rubs his back and shakes his head, "Shame Hollywood will go back to their ways." The four men stand there, meanwhile Gaz has already sent you four links to stores near you that sell kettles and YouTube links to teach you how to properly make tea.

Tags: @warenai

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eddiesguitarskills · 1 year

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When We Were Young

Older Ex Eddie Munson x Reader

Other parts 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Intro : 5 years have past since you packed up and left behind Hawkins. Well not all of it, as the people you met there are still a huge part of your life. But it’s been 5 years since you had set a foot in the small town, 5 years since you left him. And now after all that time you were back.

Warning: angst, language, mentions of suicide, miscarriages, self harm, mental health. Arguments. Mentions of break ups. Female identity reader.

Bold parts are flashbacks

Word count: 4.5k

A/n: please only read if you are in a good place, I wouldn’t want this story to trigger or hurt anyone. Let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next part

Not prove read.

The phone rang and rang, the sound being drowned out by the tantrum of a toddler who didn’t want to go to bed. Her father couldn’t hear the phone as all he could focus on was trying not to shout at the little girl despite how frustrated he was. However, the phone kept ringing. Nancy was the first to notice the vibration of the item in the living room, “st-“, she looked over to her husband who was snuggling to get the PJs on their daughter. She chuckled at the little girl’s determination, Steve often said she got her stubbornness from Nancy. She walked into the living room and picked up the phone. “Hello Harrington residents-“ she was cut off “very formal paps”. Nancy smiled knowing exactly who this was, even without the nickname she would know who it was. Who else with a British accent would be calling their house?

“Y/n! We’ve missed you, you haven’t called in a couple of days, how are you?” You chuckle at the end of the line, “do you miss me that much?”. Truth be told it was weird for the Harrington household not to hear from you. Your daily calls were part of the family routine. Nancy knew that’s why her daughter’s temper had been so bad at the moment, she missed her aunt. “Well I wouldn’t say loads but..” Nancy joked, but then her thoughts started to consume her “Are you okay? Seriously though? nothing has happened?”.

You turned the faucet to pour the bath, tears only helping to fill it more -

It was hard not to think about it any time it was mentioned, no matter how many techniques you had learned to deal with the trauma. You knew what she was asking, she usually knew better, not to ask since the only people you ever talked about it to were your therapist and Steve your best friend. But Nancy couldn't help it when she was this worried. Her nails before looking beautiful red and long were now becoming chipped from her biting, a habit she thought she had got rid of in high school. The thought of you being hurt sent her back to then, and the anxiety she felt that night. She felt so uncomfortable, twitching in her skin waiting for you to reply.

You sighed on the other end “no Nancy” it felt weird for both to hear you use her real name, it had been a while since you hadn't called her paps. It used to be an occasional nickname you used for her, but when she got head editor at Hawkins post it only felt right for her to be permanently called that. “I'm okay, I promise. I have good news actually”. The anxieties began to wash from Nancy’s body, she exhaled not realise she was holding her breath. “Steve is going to kill me that you found out first, especially since it's kind of his fault I have good news. But you know Jeremy right? Jeremy slacks, well he was talking to the staff at school saying that they need a new drama teacher. And if they had any recommendations so Steve mentioned me. It’s the perfect job for me, I couldn't say no. So I'm moving back, I'm finally gonna be able to see Rosie grow up properly”.

The anxiety crept back but she didn't want you to know, so she put on the act she used when interviewing people when she was uncomfortable with them. She acted cool. “What? Rosie's gonna be so happy. When do you move back?”. You smile on the other end not realising anything was wrong. “Three weeks” Nancy hmmed to show she was listening. Knowing that Nancy was not the quiet type unless she was overthinking. You knew she was worried about the practicality of this, she was always a worrier. “Don't worry I'll have somewhere to live, my parents are gonna help me to find a house. Hopefully they don't try to move me in next door to them” you laughed, your aunt calls you from the other room. “Sorry paps I've gotta go but I’ll see you soon. Like really soon” the phone hangs up.

Once Nancy puts the phone back on the receiver she storms upstairs in search of her husband. The sound of their daughter had disappeared now, showing that she must be asleep. Nancy didn't even notice all she could think of was the call she just received. She walks into her room to find Steve, in his boxer about to go shower. His face beamed when he saw his beautiful wife, that was until he saw the distress that was written all over her face. “What's wrong?” he walked over to her, hoping to embrace her to hopefully take some of her burdens. He reached out to in gulf her into a hug, she pushed him away. “What were you thinking!?”. Steve was very confused, he racked his brain, did he do something wrong? He knew he must have to upset her this much. He didn't know what he did but if apologising made her feel better he would in a heartbeat. “I'm sorry”. Nancy crossed her arms “do you even know what you're sorry for?”

His plan to accept guilt didn't work out as well as he hoped. He looked to the floor in search of something to say before he could even muster out a word Nancy was speaking again. “I get you to miss her but she hasn't been able to set foot here since she left. What's different now?” The pieces of the puzzle were now all together. “Nancy she's ready, I know she is”. Nancy tries not to shout to wake her daughter but Steve’s carefree attitude was pissing her off. “How do you know that? We have to meet her in the city when she visits because of the triggers, YOU say it will cause by her being here”. Steve raises his voice “I know her better than anyone. She’s ready”. Nancy frowns, Steve, noticing, sighs and sits on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair. “I'm sorry... I just can't do it anymore. every day I'm waiting for the phone to ring so I can know she's okay. So I can know she hasn't hurt-” , he chokes as a lump forms in his throat.

Nancy makes her way over to him, getting on her knees him front of him. Holding his hands running circles over his palms to let him know she's there for him. “ I thought time would help it go away, but it doesn't. It's like no matter how happy I am, I can't get rid of the thought, the what if. I hate that the only way I can know she is okay is a call at night. There are so many hours in the day Anything could happen. What if something happened again and I'm not there this time? I can't stand it. I know it's selfish, but her life is here it always has been, it's just been waiting for her to come back and claim it. She's told me she thought about coming back loads I was usually hesitant thinking there were just words but a few days ago when we talked, she sounded so sure. I guess I got excited so I decided to give her a reason to come back. I'm sorry”. Nancy kissed the back of his hands “it's okay, you should have told me”. He nodded, tears rolling down his face, that he didn't realise were there. His wife brought her sleeve to his face wiping the tears “you should have told me everything, I'm your wife, your fears are my fears.” Steve smiles at his wife, kissing her head. “Thank you”. She smiled back “ I am happy she's coming back too. I'm just worried” a laugh falls from her lips “Rosie's gonna think Christmas came early” Steve copied her laugh.

Three long weeks later, you were all the group could talk about you. Except when he was around. The him that was currently stood in his bar talking to his staff about the tasks that needed to be done before he left, not aware that his world was about to be turned upside down again. “Also the band gets in at 8, make sure everything is safe and set up for them. And please no alcohol this time, they are underage I don’t want to get in trouble with the chief again”. The staff nod to show they are listening. “Just give me five minutes Sarah and I’ll give you the handover stuff”.

He walks into the back into a stock cupboard that has a small desk with paper and pens filling every surface, a bar stool and a phone hung poorly on the wall. He sits on the chair and starts to dial a number, picking at the holes in his jeans and waiting for someone to answer. “Hello?” Eddie smiles hearing one of his favourite voices “hi dusty bun” he laughs a little. “Eddie, how's work?” Dustin’s sounded warm upon hearing his friend's voice.

Eddie chuckles “why do you assume I wanna talk about work?”. Dustin laughs “that’s the only thing you talk about other than dnd”. Eddie rubs his hands over his face “god am I that dull?”. For the younger boy this could be further from the truth, Eddie was one of the coolest people Dustin had ever met. However, because of how well Dustin knew Eddie, he knew he would mock him for the compliment so he went with sarcasm. Something he had mastered from Eddie. “You’re the dullest person I’ve ever met. It’s exhausting being friends with you”. Eddie chuckled “I can’t be the dullest, you know Mike”. A dramatic gasp comes from the phone. Every day Eddie could see more of himself in Dustin and it worried him, not that he would ever say, but he hoped he would only get his humour and the rest from Steve. Dustin deserves the best in life and being another Edward Munson wouldn’t give him that. “I’ll tell him”, Eddie nods even though Dustin can’t see him “please do”.

He loved to annoy Mike, pretending he was the bane of his existence but he loved him, he loved all of his mismatched little group just some more than others. The only way he knew to show love was through teasing, maybe that was because of who his parents were. Even though most of his life he was brought up by his uncle who showed him, love, by being there but he also never knew the best way to show it. Maybe that was the Munson way. There was only one time he thought he knew what it meant to love conventionally but that was before everything.

You wait outside his trailer, minutes feel like an eternity, waiting, hoping, praying you would feel his warm embrace…

“I’ll tell him tonight” Eddie expects a laugh or joke, something but all he gets is silence. He worries that the signal has gone, “hello” he keeps repeating hoping this will somehow help the phone reconnect. “Fucking piece of shit” the phone slams back into its holder. There’s a tap on the office door “yeah”, Sarah walks in and sits on her boss's lap. She kisses along his jawline “What’s up Eds? ” he glares and moves her off of him. No one was allowed to call him that, the exceptions being, his uncle, Dustin once and you. The name was now a trigger to him and the slight mention made him tense. A word that used to sound sweet, was now venom to him. Any mention of that word caused him to relive things he would rather keep buried forever.

He is careful not to slam the door to announce his arrival. The more time he can practice what he needs to say the better. Mutters coming from him that would be hard to hear unless you were close. Flowers clutched tightly around his fist. The walk to your door was shorter than he had hoped…

She pouts hating to upset her boss/part-time lover “Eddie, baby I’m sorry” he doesn’t react, just saying anything to get rid of her. “best start on stock and things before they get here”. She crouches down so she can rub his legs. Hoping she could help relieve his stress. His eyes roll back the higher her hands roam, a small moan falls from his mouth. She smiles loving the feeling of being needed. The moment is interrupted by the harsh siren on the wall. Eddie raises from his seat making the girl’s hands fall from him “time to get back to work”. The girl stands up looking defeated, “have a good evening off Mr Munson” she leaves his office.

He Inhales and exhales hoping to get rid of any stupid thoughts that were still spiralling around his head. After doing this for a few seconds he picks up the phone, and before he even puts it to his ear he can hear the rambles of his younger friend. “Wow chill out Dustin”. He worries something bad had happened to the boy since they last spoke minutes earlier. “So you’re coming tonight?” Dustin’s voice came out a lot harsher than he meant as the fear took over his body. “Am I not welcome?” Eddie said confidently despite fearing the rejection of the closest person in his life. If he didn’t want him around who would, he thought.

Dustin stutters “of course you are, I just thought you couldn’t come”. Eddie smiled in relief “turns out when you’re own boss you can do whatever you want”. The phone falls silent for a moment, “shit not again!”. Eddie worries the signal has gone again, he taps the phone on the table hoping it will work. He raises it to his ear. “You there?”. Nothing.

He’s about to hang up when he hears breathing on the other end of the line. “You sure you wanna come tonight?”. This is the weirdest Eddie had ever seen Dustin act, there was no way he wouldn’t go now as he had to make sure his friend was okay. “Yes even if the Harrington’s have got something corny planned… see you at 7”. Dustin softly smiles “see you then”

Not realising Eddie had hung up the phone he continues to speak “Eddie she’s gonna be there so if you don’t wanna come you don’t have to” he waits for a response anything, but there was nothing. He looks down at the phone only to realise he was talking to himself. There was now no way to warn Eddie of what he was walking into.

You had only been back in town for an hour. At that time you had only briefly seen your parents when they picked you up from the airport. Despite Steve’s grumble about wanting to see you first, as you saw your parents a month ago and in his words “it was his right as your best friend to welcome you back”. He still got his way, as despite your knowledge you were dropped off not at your parent's house, not your new house, but the Harrington’s. Being the charmer he always was of course he convinced them to drop you at his house. Not that you were complaining, as soon as you entered the house you leapt into his arms, his arms felt so welcoming, like home. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Steve knocked for the fourth time on the door, but there was still no answer. He knew it was rude to just invite himself in, but surely you wouldn’t mind since you had told him where the spare key was. Plus he hadn’t heard from you since you left the weepy voicemail an hour ago. He hated that he wasn’t home sooner to hear it. As the worry was eating him up and the key was in his hand he knew it was his right to welcome himself in. Repeating your name loudly but softly to not scare you, despite the fear he felt. He looked around the living room, the kitchen, and the dining room. Nothing. He started to make his way upstairs to look. While walking up the stairs he saw the light shine through under the bathroom door. A horrible sickly dread entered his body. He don’t know what came over him but he knew he had to get into that bathroom now…

Tears started to fall from both of the old friend's eyes. You had missed each other so much, more than you had realised. You suddenly felt a small force on your leg, break away from the hug, to see your goddaughter, Rosie. Rubbing your eyes before greeting the child. Then you reached down to her level and beamed at the precious girl in front of you. Trying to hold back tears that were seconds away from pouring again. She had grown so much since the last time you had met, her curls now long enough to be put into pigtails. “Hi Angel”, tears started to flow from the small girl’s eyes. She had missed you so much. You wiped the tears with your thumb from the little girl's eyes, “I’m sorry I was gone for so long”. Rosie sniffles “meanie”. You nod “I know I’m a sorry princess. You’ll never have to miss me again, I will always be here”. The girl pouted, she was happy at the thought of always having you around. But she was scared it wasn’t real unless. She stuck out her tiny pinky “prinky promise” she pronounced as well as she could. You smile. a tear escapes from your eye. You held both of your fingers together “pinky promise”.

After a tear felt welcoming from the final Harrington, Nancy. You were sat in the living room, Rosie’s head resting on your leg. She had tired herself out from sobbing before. Not that you could blame her all the crying made you tired too. You couldn't help the warm feeling in your heart from looking at your family, your home. Steve came in with a herbal tea, he placed it on the table in front of you, and took a seat in the armchair across from you, “thanks”.

You expected Nancy to come out as well and join so all of you so you could catch up. From the sounds of banging and frustrated sighs anyone could tell she was in the kitchen. Which was a huge surprise to you. You hadn’t been in Hawkins for a long time, but Nancy was Never, a cook. Not that she hadn’t tried, but she already had so many amazing talents, so what did it matter if there was one thing she couldn’t do? She was still perfection in your, Rosie’s and Steve’s eyes.

You leaned the upper half of your body towards your best friend, careful to not unsettle the small girl underneath you. Whispering loud enough so he can hear “what is Nancy doing in the kitchen? Isn’t it your best friend's duty to make sure I’m not poisoned on my first day back” you joked. “She’s not that bad”. You raised an eyebrow at Steve. “I swear she better, she doesn’t burn as many things as she used to”. You both chuckle “reassuring. But She doesn’t need to cook just because I’m back, I’m not classy I would happily have a KFC”. Steve's mouth watered at the thought of his favourite takeout that he had been trying to cut down on, scared of getting a “dad bod”. He would say it wasn’t cool for someone his age to have one. “Well she thought it would be nice, especially with everyone coming over”. Your mascara-stained eyes went wide. “Have you seen me?” signalling down to the tracksuit you had on for travelling, “I look a mess, I can’t see people like this”. You had never been one to worry about looks but messy raccoon's eyes and a tracksuit didn’t seem fitting for a welcome-back dinner.

After raiding Nancy’s closet for something that would fit, you came across a simple floral dress. Nothing spectacular but it was pretty. It was clear from the tag that Nancy had never worn it, but she insisted she didn't mind as she has received it for Christmas last year and it wasn't her style. She knew it would look beautiful on you. However, Nancy was always one of your biggest cheerleaders so if she was telling the truth or not you'd never know. You had also cleaned your face and put on mascara and Lipgloss you had in your bag. Feeling too bad to borrow more things from Nancy.

The couple were struggling to get the girl to bed before everyone came. Rosie has a serious case of Fomo. “I will only go to bed if auntie y/n takes me”. You would have done anything she said so you were more than happy to follow her orders. However, her parents knowing all too well knew her tricks. They knew she would make it so you couldn't leave her, showing you her puppy dog eyes, which even her parents weren't completely immune to. Meaning you were either going to have to stay in her room with her or take her to the party downstairs. So they thought it was best they did it, which made you sad, you would have honestly preferred to be stuck with the girl all night. Not that you didn't want to see your friends you were just nervous and you felt more comfortable around a 3-year-old, who you know wouldn't ask questions. Wouldn't judge. Wouldn't be scared you were gonna hurt yourself again. She would just be happy to be around her Aunt, probably talking your ear off about my little pony( her new fixation).

You sat in the living room again twiddling your thumbs, hating that could hear the sobs of Rosie upstairs asking for you. You wanted to go upstairs, hearing someone needing you so much was making your heart break but you knew you had to respect her parent's wishes, especially since they were the people you trusted most.

Bang. You jumped not expecting to be pulled away from your thoughts by a knock on the door. You hoped Steve would come down and answer it. You felt sick with butterflies. There was a knock again. You knew it was stupid to be scared to see old friends, but you could never help but feel awkward around them. When in the few times you had seen them since leaving, they all had the same glint in their eyes towards you. Fear. Maybe seeing you more now, showing that you had finally started to have your life ok track would stop that. You were being ridiculous, you knew they only worried because they cared, and it would be fine.

Upon hearing another knock, you held onto the sofa to get up scared your knees would fail you. You exhaled and put on the biggest smile you could. Waking over to the door. You grabbed the handle pulling it open, ready to welcome your friends. However, on the other side of the door was someone you still hadn't prepared yourself to see. You wanted to pitch yourself to make sure this wasn't a nightmare. ‘Ignore your heartbreaking and just keep smiling’ you told yourself. “Long time no see”. If anyone from far was watching they would have thought from the beam on your face, that you were greeting an old friend. But from Eddie’s face, you could tell it was anything but that. Well, his expression was hard to explain. But from his frozen body, it was clear he was shocked. You kept smiling trying to ignore the awkward interaction playing out. You moved your body to the side “come in”. He did but his facial expressions didn't change, he wouldn’t stop staring at you. “So how have you been?”

Steve came bounding down the stairs upon hearing the door shut, happy to be able to get away from his daughter's trauma. He stopped on the bottom step when he saw the unexpected guest. He wore the same face as Eddie. You looked between the pair, you needed Steve now more than ever so you were glad to see him. “Is she still crying for me?”. He nodded still staring at Eddie. You clear your throat you needed him, now wasn't the time to freeze up. He broke away from his trance, looking to you. “You know you should probably go up and see her”. You knew what he was trying to do but you didn't want to unsettle the girl more just because you were uncomfortable. “Steve I don't wanna make her worse”. His brows came together, how was he supposed to help if you wouldn't listen? “Fine do you mind helping in the kitchen just while Nancy is finishing up?”. You nod, leaving for the kitchen. As soon as you left the room a smile fell from your face. You thought you were over it but meeting those brown eyes brought up memories you wish you could forget.

“God why are you so controlling?”, you turn around to face him astonished by his accusation. “I'm trying to help, if you don't wanna do it fine. I just thought you might need some legal cash when you finally graduate”. He flinched. You knew you shouldn't have mentioned that word, it being a sore spot as this was his second time trying to graduate. You also knew you shouldn't mention the drug dealing, an awkward topic in your relationship as you always knew he was better than that life. You knew how sour his mood was about to become, so you were ready to make an apology when you were cut off. “I get it, you don't think I'm good enough to make it? You wanna stick me in some shitty job, so I'm stuck here forever. While you get to go live your dreams. Do you want me to be your little housewife and have food on the table ready for when you get back from your big successful job?”. How could you trying to help turn out so bad? You were always his biggest believer of him, and this was how he was treating you. You weren't sure if you should even mention the baby at this point.

Steve finally left the bottom step. He hated how sick this situation made him feel, it felt like was he responsible to make you happy, and this way the furthest away from that. However, he also didn't want to make his other friend feel unwelcome. Even if his loyalties were with you, he knew how awkward it can be to see an ex. He placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, breaking the man free from his frozen demeanour. “Eddie I didn't expect to see you here. Dustin said you had work”. The long-haired man scoffed “I guess there were things we both didn't know”.

#Spotify #older eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #stranger things imagines #stranger things angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x you

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ask-spooky-manor · 5 months

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Toby Character Headcanons

So I was tagged with a list of questions for me to answer that I reblogged, and while none of them were sent in my inbox, I still wanted to answer some cause they were really interesting.

Trigger Warning: I do talk about how abuse has affected Toby and how it has left some long lasting scars mentally and emotionally speaking. Not all of the headcanons are like that though, just be cautious. Nothing too in detail but can be uncomfortable

Clothing style

Toby’s style is like mixing grunge with cottagecore (goblincore is what it’s usually called). He likes his knitted sweaters and earthy tones, but at the same time he enjoyes ripped jeans and chunky black boots that can basically double as a weapon.

Eating Habits

Toby has a massive appetite. You will always catch him with a snack in his hands or complaining that he’s hungry despite having eaten a full meal not ten minutes ago. He just really likes food, and people in the house know to give him an extra serving for dinner

Hobbies

Music is more of a passion so tinkering around and making little gadgets is probably his number one hobby. He mainly likes to make things that blow up. Other general hobbies he has are cooking, hiking, uhhhh arson, and drawing

Fighting Style

He’s fully aware that he’s not the strongest or fastest or even has the most endurance, but Toby is extremely clever and crafty. He thinks way outside of the box and relies heavily on all of his odd little gadgets and inventions to surprise an enemy like smoke bombs, traps, loud fire crackers, you name it. He is an unpredictable fighter because you’ll never know what he has up his sleeves, and the surprise is something he will very much use against you. Not to mention that when he’s stuck in a sticky situation, he’s really good at coming up with on the spot plans that will get him out of trouble.

Ways he says I love you

Well, he will just say it. Toby won’t shy away from using the L word on anyone he even mildly likes. Though another way he shows it is through encouraging his loved ones to take care of themselves. He will make sure you eat properly, sleep well, take your meds, etc. Also hugs, Toby is a hugger.

Introvert or Extrovert

Extrovert, which surprised him when he realized it. Toby thought he was introverted for the longest time when in reality he was just dealing with a lot of nasty people who made him feel unsafe. Being alone felt safer, but at the same time it made him miserable because he naturally gains more energy with good people around. Ending up in the manor was the best thing to happen to him because now he has buddies he can spend time with like all the time.

Religious or Non-religious?

Complicated as fuck. He was raised Christian only to kind of despise organized religions as a whole. He would say he’s an atheist if he didn’t live with a literal moon god (Ben), so now he just has a beef with gods in general (Except Ben, they’re chill). Basically he thinks about how if these beings really are all powerful, all kind, all forgiving and omniscient and good then why the fuck did none of them help him? Why did it reach a point where he killed his own father? Why was he never saved? Basically, the idea of there being a higher power gets him in a bitter mood. Best to avoid the subject altogether.

Something he could never forgive.

Toby is generally a forgiving person but the one thing he could never forgive is when someone takes advantage of the kindness he is willing to give. Classmates did it in school as a way to bully him, and his dad would sometimes guilt trip favors out of him (usually to sneak him more beer, which will end up biting Toby in the ass when facing his drunk dad later on). Just the general act of trying to manipulate Toby, knowing they can toy with the heart he wears on his sleeve, is enough for him to want that person dead.

Something that scares him.

For the small, irrational fear; Toby is afraid of the dark. It’s just a childhood fear that he never really got over. It’s fine if he’s with someone but being alone in the dark will put him in fight or flight mode. For the bigger existential shit: dreads the idea of everyone secretly hating him. His own father and peers have created this idea in Toby’s mind that there is nothing good about him. That his own existence is nothing but a burden on others, so there’s always this fear that his friends and even his own boyfriend don’t actually like him and that it’s all a front. He knows that realistically that’s not true, but it’s hard fighting against a toxic mindset that was pushed into his brain at such a young age.

Did he grow up too fast?

No, thankfully. It was Lyra who had to grow up too fast. Connie did her best, she really did, but there have been a lot of times where it was Lyra who had to care for Toby. Especially after really bad nights where their dad thought having one more bottle wouldn’t be a problem. Toby was unlucky enough to have been surrounded by people that were cruel to him, but thanks to Lyra and his mom he at least was able to be a kid from time to time.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #ticci toby #toby rogers #lyra rogers #ben drowned #they’re mentioned so it counts lol #headcanons

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fireflysummers · 9 months

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Final Thoughts on GO S2

I'm probably gonna pull back on discussing S2, at least publicly, after this. I did actually like a lot of the season, but it's triggering some of my religious trauma and also the fandom is already stressing me out. So here, let's have some final thoughts.

First and foremost: I am not a Gaiman simp. I've read a decent amount of his work: comics, short stories, essays, and novels. Aside from Good Omens, I've liked Coraline and The Graveyard Book the best by far, whereas American Gods just. Did Not Connect with me, even though it's should have, given the stuff I tend to enjoy.

However. Regardless of whether I like a given work (or even like how he adapted it, a la parts of The Sandman TV series), he is a veteran writer who has proven that he does, actually, know how to write a story with consistent characters.

Beyond that, I do actually believe that he's trying to do right by Pratchett, and loves and respects the story and characters they created together. He's generally shown up as an ally to a variety of social causes, and directly and respectfully responds to fans on Tumblr. While no saint, I feel that there is cause to give the benefit of the doubt that things will resolve satisfyingly in S3, and that there is Intention about some of the things in S2.

This, of course, does not absolve it of being "bad," but even here I think we need to articulate better the different types of "bad" that people are reacting to. There seems to roughly be three camps here: 1) People who thought it was "bad" because of how it ended, with the breakup and a lot of unresolved plot threads; 2) People who thought it was "bad" because it struggled on a technical level with its set, lighting, directorial choices, editing, etc; 3) People who thought it was "bad" because they felt the characterization was significantly off and that the internal logic of the series had been violated.

With regards to Point One, the only solution is to Wait and See. Judgement should be reserved until the story is properly finished--easier said than done, especially considering the current media landscape, and the number of series or franchises that fail to live up to their promises.

Point Two isn't something I understand well enough to contribute meaningfully, except that I suspect the pandemic affected this aspect the most and am willing to give it a bit more mercy. That aside, I for the most part I don't find it bad so much as not as good as S1. Except for the parts with epilepsy warnings, surely there could've been a better way to do that.

Point Three... that's the stumbling block for me, and I find it interesting that most of the folks who struggle with this point in particular are long time fans of the book.

I trust that instinct.

There are two different directions to go from here. The first is the assumption that these problems are a result of ego, carelessness, or lack of skill from the showrunners/writers/director. It's cynical but not unjustified. The second is the belief that the breaks in lore or characterization were intentional, building towards a much grander conspiracy. Of course, even in this case I don't think it forgives the lack of signposting that would indicate that this is a choice rather than an accident. It just makes it feel clumsy and poorly constructed, a major risk on a show that hasn't had its third season confirmed.*

However, regardless, it still feels salvageable. I've enjoyed reading a lot of meta on all this, and I've pulled some things from others (particularly That Theory by @ariaste), but I don't really want to put forth a single, defined theory myself. Instead, here's some questions I've got, why those questions are important (to me, at least). Actual theorizing comes after, and anybody who snidely mentions Sherlock in the comments or tags is going to get auto-blocked. Like seriously, I'm aware that some stuff is a stretch, but it's fun??? To theorize????? And I'm here for me and my peace of mind rather than trying to argue a point.

*I have some suspicions here, particularly with Gaiman stating that the decision from Amazon would come much faster than The Sandman's second season (which was four months). I don't know enough though to say if that's actually significant.

Questions

Who the fuck is telling this story?

This is the most important piece, in my opinion. There's this assumption when reading books (or research papers, newspapers, etc...) that the narrator who is writing the words is a non-presence, Neutral and objective. That's not the case, and an important part of literature critique is figuring out who the narrator is, and what their goals are. Oftentimes, the narrator and the author are the same person, but with Pratchett's work, particularly on Good Omens and Discworld, the Narrator was its own unique character.

This is why people struggle adapting Discworld to live action--that medium requires a Reason for having a Narrator, and especially in the age of method acting that's often considered immersion-breaking. Good Omens worked so well because they not only kept the Narrator, but they made Her God.

This added some really interesting new dimensions, such as the scene where Crowley speaks to God about his fall and the destruction of humanity. He doesn't receive an answer, but we're watching from God's perspective, so we as the audience know that She's listening.

Another advantage of making God the Narrator is that it justifies all the goofy little asides we get into the lives of minor characters (i.e. Leslie the Mailman), without losing focus. It helps the world feel like it’s full of people, rather than characters and plot contrivances, and the theme that individual people and their choices are important. The Narrator is such a central character of Good Omens that without it, the story struggles to stay focused.

It also highlights a key difference in the writing styles of the two authors. Pratchett’s work tends to introduce four or five totally unique plot threads that feel completely disjointed until the last act (if not even later), when it turns into a Chekhov’s Firing Squad. Plot twists around secret identities and backstabbing and schemes are relatively rare, as the omniscient Narrator doesn’t lie about the intentions of people or their actions.

Gaiman’s writing is typically not like that, to my knowledge. He buries characters in misdirection and hints, and you never know the true identity or motives until all the chips are down. It’s a perfectly valid way to approach storytelling, but it makes it jarring to see it in S2. The lack of a Narrator is a huge reason why S2 doesn’t feel like Good Omens to some folks.

My gut feeling is that the decision to shift from the original Narrator was highly intentional. It helps to obscure the thoughts and intentions of people, and it also muddles the insights that we’re supposed to take away. (I would have loved hearing God monologue about what’s going on in Jim’s head. I think it’d do a lot to make him seem less.... obnoxiously stupid.)

More than that, it brings up a reasonable potential plot point of: Where did God go? Why isn’t She present in the story? Even in her early appearance in the Job flashback, she doesn’t sound like the narrator for last season. After the first part of her speech (which Gabriel later quotes), her tone turns casual and condescending, which might line up with her being a bit of an asshole, it doesn’t line up with the whole “dealer of a mysterious card game who is always smiling”).

Also, I don’t think it’s safe to assume that nobody is telling the story either. Just because they’re not making their presence known doesn’t mean they aren’t there, and in a story like Good Omens, that’s concerning.

Wait, where's Satan?

Another person I saw while scrolling the tags pointed out that Satan is nowhere to be seen this season. He's really only mentioned in reference to a bet God made in Job, but then Crowley is the one on the ground causing mischief. There's no Hail Satan among demons (like Hastur and Ligur did at the start of S1).

That's might be because the writers didn't want us to think it was important (a la Hastur), but that feels off. Given that Satan speaks directly through the radio to Crowley in S1, complimenting him on his work, it's safe to say that he was at least aware of and involved in the goings-on in Hell. The fact that he wasn't even an worry for Beelzebub in abandoning their post? Feels weird.

(Also if you know where that post is, I'll happy credit + link)

What is Maggie?

Look, I love cute lesbians in love as much as the next queer, but I don't like Maggie. I don’t think she’s a person. Contextually, she’s a plot device, but I agree with That Essay that she might be an actual Plot Device.

Her characterization is simple and relatively shallow—a bit of an airhead, ray of sunshine that’s supposed to remind you of Aziraphale. When she describes her past to Nina, it’s almost robotic (also, her story implies it was Mr. Fell who first rented to her ancestor, not Mr. Fell’s great-grandfather like Nina implied). Her emotions are over-dramatic and seem to be turned on and off at random (scenes with her crying to Aziraphale about her woes had my “manipulator” senses going off for some reason).

When asked about a song, she not only IDs the song, its singer, and its year, but how and on what it was distributed. (Honestly thought this would’ve been something interesting, because she’s been pretty ditzy so far, it’d be interesting if she had like... an insane memory for music history.) And then she’s the one that sets Aziraphale on his little investigation by giving him the transformed records, while also planting the seed about her love troubles with Nina. Later, her advice to Crowley is... not awful, but feels insincere and a bit too forward, given her own self-proclaimed lack of relationship experience.

I don’t know what she is (a demon, hastur with amnesia in disguise, a literal plot device inserted by the current storyteller, etc...), but there’s something not right with her.

(Also the joke of “who listens to records anymore, it’s so old fashioned” just doesn’t land, lots of people buy records, and I’m saying this as somebody who has worked at a record store before.)

What's going on with Aziraphale?

There’s something Off about Aziraphale, and it’s not his choices at the end of the season. That makes total sense if you read him as somebody with severe religious trauma getting dragged back into the abusive system because other people need him and he’s been promised the ability to change things.

But I do think something is happening to his memory. Nearly all the flashbacks are from Aziraphale’s point of view and retelling, which means that they’re less reliable than God’s version of events in the previous season. Many of them don’t make logistical sense (post-church scene in 1941), depict Crowley as meaner or more sinister than we know he is, or frame events... weirdly. The scene with him trying food for the first time feels Really Bad, especially when the series has previously established that he’s a) prim and proper and b) his interest in food is one of the beautiful things that connect him to humanity, not some kind of gluttonous sin. Also he turns down alcohol.

Their meet-cute at the start of the universe also doesn’t line up with their reactions to each other in Eden, or the fact that knowing each other Before has never come up or been hinted at anywhere ever. I don’t know what’s causing this to happen, only that Aziraphale repeatedly looks pensive when coming out of flashbacks, and Crowley is never there afterwards to corroborate said memories.

His actions also seem pretty inconsistent with what we know of him—i.e. I refuse to believe he would ever mistreat his books, even if they’re just old encyclopedias. Also, he feels a bit too...forceful in trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love? I mean, he didn’t exert that much direct influence on even Warlock, when he was actively hoping that the boy would turn out angelic rather than neutral.

I don’t think this removes his agency in that last decision, so much as explains how he was in such a vulnerable place at all. He still needs to apologize and fix things, because he messed up, and even if he hadn’t he still seriously hurt Crowley.

What's going on with Crowley?

There’s something Off about Crowley. The most obvious thing, of course, is his memories. At multiple points in the present day, characters state that they remember him or have met him before, only to be met with confusion. This is especially concerning given that he has a nigh photographic memory for faces (something mentioned in the book when he immediately IDs Mary Loquacious, 11 years after a 30 second conversation).

Overall, he seems to be better known by other supernatural entities this season, in ways that often tie him back to his angelic identity (i.e. saying they fought together in the war, Aziraphale stating he knew the angel he used to be, etc...). This doesn’t feel right, because S1 we see that Hell is largely apathetic towards his schemes, and definitely does not defer to him at any point in any capacity.

Then there’s the issue of his power level. It’s always been speculated that Crowley was a powerful angel prior to falling, when he mentions in S1 his involvement with star making, his seemingly unique ability to freeze time, and creating a pocket universe for Adam before the confrontation with Satan. He also has a tendency of breathing life into inanimate objects, like his plants or car. He also has the regular demonic skillset: miracles that can adjust physical appearance; the ability to change inanimate objects (like paintball guns into real guns); the ability to manifest clothing and similar items; and summon hellfire to his fingertips. This, plus the way he monologues to God with a degree of familiarity rather than reverence seems to indicate that he was Somebody Powerful and Important Before.

But in S2, his skills are significantly expanded upon. The miracle he and Aziraphale summon sets off alarms in heaven and hell, and it’s powerful enough to mask Gabriel from the Archangels. He summons a miniature sun to rain fire on Job, which is way bigger and flashier than anything we’ve seen him summon in S1. (If he needs fire, he alters the course of a dropping bomb, without creating one himself.)

Yet he’s able to cloak his presence so well he goes wholly unnoticed in heaven, or in front of heavenly agents on earth (i.e. the Job flashback). Muriel can’t clock him as a demon, or even as another supernatural being, despite their auras usually being pretty significant, such Aziraphale immediately sensing the archangels when they arrive. He’s able to interfere with files that Muriel claimed required clearance (although I feel like that might just be a snark about Obeying Without Thinking? I would really need a Narrator to know.)

I might be misremembering, but I don’t think we’ve seen angels or demons transmogrify living beings before either. In the book, Crowley brings Aziraphale’s dove back to life after the failed magic show, and occasionally sinks ducks, but he doesn’t alter them? Not even Adam demonstrates that skill in S1. But he has no trouble turning Job’s children into lizards, however temporarily. Boy that would’ve been convenient during the flood. Or when the guard stopped then from getting to the air strip.

I don’t have any real issues with his characterization in the present day parts of S2, but there’s something weird happening with Crowley.

Where's all the people?

I really like a lot of the new characters, but how were there only like, 2.5 new humans named in the present day? Flashbacks don’t count bc the humans are all dead and can’t affect the story.

As much as I like Nina, she and Maggie don’t drive the story beyond being an occasional and awkwardly inserted plot contrivance? Both are actively robbed of their agency at several points, forced into situations that they could not have avoided or escaped. I’m not really sure what growth they’re expected to experience other than deciding not to date each other after everything. I literally can’t tell you anything about Nina other than that she remembers her regular’s orders, runs a coffee shop, and has a textbook abusive partner we never see. The only meaningful interactions they have are between those two, or in conversation with Aziraphale and Crowley.

Compare that to S1, where Anathema gets hit by Aziraphale and Crowley, but her primary relationships are with Newt, Adam, and Agnes Nutter (I think that counts as a relationship). We know that she’s got a wealthy family back in Puerto Rico, and that she was literally raised to save the world, and that she isn’t happy under all that pressure. Newt on the other hand is connected to not just Anathema, but Shadwell and Madame Tracy. He never even directly interacts with Aziraphale and Crowley. We know about his hobbies, his struggle to hold down a job, and his almost supernatural ability to destroy any electronics he touches. I don’t necessarily like how their relationship came together, but they were both very, very well fleshed out characters with unique backstories and goals. They weren’t just... waiting around to give Aziraphale and Crowley a new questline.

And while there’s no requirement to include a large cast of human characters that are exerting influence over the story, the lack of it is another aspect that makes this season feel not like Good Omens.

Also, it's just. Really weird to me that the events of S1 aren't really referenced at all? Like, Adam isn't mentioned, nor is Warlock. I don't expect them to keep track of the humans they met on the airfield for 20 minutes, but none of it is ever specifically referenced as far as I can tell, beyond Crowley threatening Gabriel. Like, I get that it's been a few years, but the pair caused a big enough disturbance that you'd expect some kind of ripples in their supernatural communities.

Promised by the Narrative (Obvious Chekhov's guns that I will be legitimately upset over if they do not go off)

A sincere apology from Aziraphale to Crowley that doesn't come with the expectation that Crowley will come back to him, but because he deserves an apology, even if the choices Aziraphale made were done with good intentions. Aziraphale does not expect forgiveness, and is shocked when Crowley grants it without hesitation.

A clear declaration of love from Aziraphale, which can't be rationalized away by either of them.

An "I'm Sorry" dance between Aziraphale and Crowley, but with greater sincerity and gravity. The most important piece is that they end up dancing together, which signifies a mutual apology and dedication to come together.

Since kissing is on the table, I expect an actual joyful, mutual kiss between these two assholes.

A shared cottage in South Downs.

Predictions/Theories (just some fun thoughts I've had)

When Adam declared that Satan was not his father, he didn't make himself not the antichrist, but accidentally crowned his human dad the King of Hell. Nobody knows this, because Adam doesn't have a good measure for "normal" supernatural situations, and Mr. Young because he's so "normal" that he explains away all the magical bullshit that's started going down.

When Adam declared that Satan was not his father, he erased Satan altogether. However, this left a vacuum in both power and reality. The defection of both Gabriel and Beelzebub only widens that crack. In an attempt to Fix things, reality is warping the story. Crowley has become leagues more powerful between S1 and S2, as the narrative is trying to force him into the role of his previous boss. Aziraphale is unknowingly being pulled into a similar version on the Other Side, perhaps to replace Gabriel or perhaps to replace God herself, who has been fairly absent in all this. The alterations to their memories or past have come about to keep the narrative running smoothly.

When the Metatron asks Nina whether anybody has ever asked for death, he was actually referring to Death, the sole remaining rider of the apocalypse.

If Maggie is indeed a Plot Device, it would be a fascinating exploration of Free Will to see her become aware of this (cue existential crisis), and then fall in love with Nina on her own terms, rather than because she was written that way.

Hastur will be back. Somehow.

The reason why S2 focuses so much on the supernatural characters is because S3 will be about how the events in S1 have changed the political landscape of heaven and hell. Angels are questioning their roles, demons are yearning for something more. It's scaring upper administration, and then the two most reliable folks in employment run away to alpha centauri. Recruiting Aziraphale and getting him back in line prevents him from becoming a martyr, control the range of his influence. The series reasserts its theme of choice and agency by highlighting that Aziraphale and Crowley aren't that special, they've just had the chance to live and grow, and that the others have free will too, if they want it.

The reason why they wanted to separate Aziraphale and Crowley, is not to get Aziraphale on his own, but to get Crowley on his own. He literally stopped time and made a pocket universe in front of Satan last season. He's powerful and dangerous and somebody wants to see that reigned in.

Wishlist (stuff I desperately want to see)

Crowley getting an audience with God and an opportunity to ask his questions, only to refuse to do so because he's found his own Answers and he no longer needs hers

Aziraphale and Crowley growing more into their book incarnations. Aziraphale becomes confident in his sense of morality, which he developed the hard way through millennia on earth besides humanity. He slowly learns what it means to be loved, unconditionally, but also is better at asserting and maintaining his boundaries. Crowley, still anxious and unwinding, works through his fear of abandonment, providing him opportunities to be kind and gentle and nurturing--all traits that he's aggressively hid since being a demon.

Hand holding. I know that Gaiman was referring to Ineffable Bureaucracy, but I still feel like we'd benefit from meaningful hand holding, especially since that got cut from the adaptation of the book.

Shifted focus away from the supernatural shenanigans, and back onto the humans that actually drive the story.

Cameos from S1 characters (if not a more substantial appearance).

The Four Other Riders of the Apocalypse.

Cursed Thoughts (why I shouldn't be allowed a social platform)

Ineffable Bureaucracy turns up in season 3 because Beelzebub got Gabriel pregnant somehow.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 #good omens meta #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens 2 theory #good omens 2 analysis #long post #text

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codecicle · 8 months

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WHATS POPPING‼️ I'm Ashton B Codecicle Gayboy Swagaythor and I use he/him they/them and it/its with no preference in between all of them. Dudebro Manguy who will be weird and freakish on your dashboard faggot-style :D👍

matching pfps with my boyfriend's @felixisfruity and my friend @originallymax ^_^

‼️ cc!wilbur and cc!dream stans fuck off. if i talk about them im always talking about their characters (my ocs) ‼️

HELLO!! gaze apon ye affront to god and despair. if me or any of my posts have made you deeply sigh with shame and regret then i may be entitled to financial compensation! cashapp me 20 bucks rn

also! am a minor ^_^ so i wont be drawing the labia ghoul as i am 14 years of age smiley face (<- inside joke)

I LOVE TALKING TO MUTUALS AND FRIENDS AND BUDDIES AND HOMIES. COME TALK TO ME I HAVE A DISCORD SERVER YOU SHOULD DM ME FOR THE LINK OOOOOOOO YOU WANNA JOIN CLUB CREPUSCULE SO BADDDDDDDDDDD OOOOOOOO

number ONE codeflippa and qcharlie enthusiast. if anyone tells u otherwise run very very fast in the other direction and dont look back its me boy im the ps5 speaking to you inside ur brain listen to me boy

mcyt is my special intrest im never leaving this place until the day i die. qsmp dsmp osmp scu smplive cogchamp sdmp epicsmp.. my servers.... <3 i also watch chuckle sandwich and jrwi + most mcyt adjacent people

I do not make sideblogs and never plan on it! outside of!! url hoarding and my singular jrwi gimmick blog/son @has-chip-beaten-the-allegaytions I'm a Chip "Bastard" James JRWI enthusiast btw ^_^)

albatrio are transexuals and faggots and in queer platonic t3t love i dont care about jrwitwt they can explode. sad! 💥💥💥💥

also also im a grimeduo guy. a big one. being both a slimer and an inniter at the same time is like a full time job of being transgender but i somehow manage. who up beastin

if you ever want to listen to my scu propaganda and start watching it i ramble about it a little bit in this ask

i am learning french btw!! charlie and baghera mental illness strikes again (chose the class before the qsmp started and has now managed to make practicing a language into something about my special interests to make me more intrested in it) ((YOU WANNA SEND ME ASKS IN FRENCH. YOU WOULD LIKE TO TALK TO ME IN FRENCH. YOU NEED TO GIVE ME FRENCH PRACTICE. ITS MEEEE BOY IM THE FUCKING PS5 FREE WILL IS AN ILLUSION))

collection of people being normal about me.

(my chip hater blinkies and normal about father-child dynamics shirt were both made by felix!! <3 this egg is transgender image was made by @/foxtriestobiteandmaimandkilland </3 and the juanaflippa divider can be used with credit to the artist!! it was made by @/etoilesbienne)

tag list ahead! if you ever need me to tag something just send me an ask or dm and let me know i will ALWAYS say yes i want people to be safe. that being said i do talk about triggering topics from time to time and my intrests are often gore/body horror filled like genloss or bitb so keep that in mind!! i will still tag them properly but i am a walking trigger warning PLEASE stay safe :DD

original posts -> i make yet anothet post just for me 👍

important things ive gottta find multiple times -> saving for later

i am arguably a pink core (the typa shit ballincat43 is on) person and you can pry that from my cold dead hands so here is the tag for it LMAO -> me core

qsmp -> qsmp

qsmp fanart -> qsmp art

absurdly powerful dnd podcast posting -> jrwi (i also tag the individual characters)

liveblogging newer jrwi episodes or jrwiepisodes with spoilers -> jrwilb

gayass military game posting -> cod

generation loss -> genloss

jerma -> jerma is a fucking cryptid

liveblogging -> liveblogging

ask tag -> we have mail :]

best asks I've ever received -> askbox hall of fame

slimecicle cinematic universe -> scu

autism² (risk of rain) -> ror2

self rb -> reblogging my own post

the mcu / mutual cinematic universe -> little rp thing I do with my friends ^_^

tag for elliot (my boyfriend) -> my love felix <3 <3

pokemon (autism³) -> poketag

#i make yet anothet post just for me 👍#flashing images #image id in alt text #^_^

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darth-sonny · 1 year

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Prime Leo AU Ficlet

Content/Trigger Warnings in the tags

Leo wakes up with his shell to the wall and feels a bit chilly.

His vision takes some time to properly clear up, but the blurry colors he can see give him some odd sense of… familiarity. As if he’s been here before. He rubs his eyes, blinking once, twice, three times until it becomes clear where he is.

He’s in the kitchen of the old lair. Or, what he assumes to be the kitchen of the old lair. Without the cupboards, appliances, and heating installed by dad and Donnie over the years, it just looks like a weird empty room. Leo gets the feeling that if he were to walk out and explore his old home, he’d just see the bones, the base for the home he’s known for thirteen years. He leans his head back, scales resting on the cool wall.

Looking down, he sees that he’s wearing the thick, heavy hoodie Donnie made for him with April’s help. Huh. So, this must be a dream, because Leo only wore that hoodie when he went to bed. Moving his legs, he sighs a bit in relief at seeing that he’s still wearing sweatpants. He’s not in the mood to see all the scars he has on his legs.

He’s not in the mood to see any of his scars in general. But so far, he’s been doing a great job of ignoring them and the problems that they caused. Mikey’s attempts of tricking him into a session with Doctor Feelings get thwarted every time by a conveniently placed Donnie, who claims that he’s just making sure that Leo’s vitals don’t go crazy.

Leo’s thankful for the saves. He can’t stomach a meeting with Doctor Feelings. He’s pretty sure he’d hurt Mikey in some form of way if he had to, and he didn’t want to do that.

Hurting his brothers, his dad, April, Casey, Cassandra…

After waking up with horrible wounds and scars all over him and seeing his family burst into tears when he said hello for what felt like the first time in months, the last thing on Leo’s mind was hurting his family in any way.

A baby’s cry snapped him out of his thoughts.

Turning his head to the left, he saw a semi-run down cardboard box.

The cries came from there.

Was he in a memory? He remembers dad saying that he and his brothers all slept in a cardboard box back when they were babies small enough to fit in the palm of their dad’s hand.

Crawling closer, Leo was ready and expecting to see four baby turtles wiggling around and about to start crying altogether. It was something that drove Splinter up the wall when it came to them; if one of them started crying, then a chain reaction would be set off and not even a minute later, they all ended up crying. Leo and his brothers, thankfully, broke out of that habit once they hit the double digits (sans Mikey, the more empathetic brother/son).

So imagine his surprise when he looks inside the box and doesn’t see four baby turtles, but only one.

Himself.

He’s burrito-wrapped with a light blue blanket, waving his little arms as best he could and screaming his little lungs out. His itty-bitty face is scrunched up, massive tears spilling out of his eyes.

Leo doesn’t remember being a loud crier. That was either Mikey or, on occasion, Donnie. Contrary to popular belief, Leo used to be a quiet baby. He hardly cried, mostly fussed, and said almost nothing until he was four-years-old. Then he started talking and he never stopped.

Gently picking up his baby self, Leo racked his brain for any information on infants. He’s familiar with pediatric care (there was no reason for him to learn it, but he still picked it up just in case April and Sunita ever adopted), but for basic baby care, Leo was lost as hell. Deciding that he had no other better idea, he loosly unwraps the baby and begins to rock him.

He was incredibly little. His head was smaller than the palm of Leo’s hand, and his bitty arms don’t even wrap halfway around Leo’s neck.

Was he really that small back then?

Leo wishes he could go back to those times, where the only thing he and his family had to worry about was if it would get too cold for them to go outside.

Everything seemed so simple back then.

It hurts to think back to those times.

The baby stopped crying by now, letting out small hiccups and garbled chirps as he tightened his grip on Leo’s neck. Though, not by much. Baby strength doesn’t help the little guy out at all.

Laughing just a bit, Leo gently unwraps his baby self's arms around him and lays him out on his legs.

“Are you feeling better now?” he asks, keeping his voice low to not startle the baby.

A fussy churr escapes his little beak as he wipes his face with his blanket-covered hands. Leo smiles a bit at the sight. Grabbing the edge of the blanket, he assists his baby self with the task, earning a happy little chirp and a giggle as a thanks.

“I was really cute back then, wasn’t I?” he says, booping the baby’s snout with a finger, earning another giggle. His eyes fell on the hand and arm he lost more than six months, opening and closing his fingers to enjoy it. It was a dream, after all, might as well have this moment to himself.

“You really should enjoy having both of your arms, y’know,” he says while grabbing his baby self’s tiny, chubby, blanket-covered legs. “Because, from me to you, it sucks losing one of them.”

The baby opens his eyes…

…and Leo feels his blood freeze.

He was expecting to see black eyes. Black eyes that would later develop into one blue, and one brown.

The baby’s eyes are red. A familiar haunting red that stares back at him from the mirror, glowing no matter where he is, and reminding him of what happened to him. Of who happened to him.

Leo takes a good long look at the baby, finally noticing the markings over their eyes. They were jagged, almost fancy in a way, and while looking similar to his own, they were pink. His were red.

The blanket fell away from the baby’s hands, revealing the dark ombré they ended in. The color made him sick. It was the same color of the arm that grew out of his stump. The arm that he was stuck with because he was too much of a coward to ask Donnie or Draxum to cut it off.

Gently, he unwraps the baby from the blanket.

Their feet were the same; green scales ending in a dark ombré color. Their tail was longer than Leo’s, almost the same length Raph’s was back when he was a baby. The tip was covered in that same. Damn. Color.

The baby blinks at Leo once, twice, three times, before a wide smile overtakes their face. A gurgly giggle escaped their throat as they stretched their arms towards him, their hands making grabbing motions. The baby’s tail began to wag rapidly.

They’re looking at him with so much love, and happiness, and trust, and adoration…

The same way dad said Leo looked at him when he was freshly mutated.

Leo feels sick.

The baby chirps, churrs, and continues to giggle.

They’re adorable. And they look so much like him.

Leo gently rewraps the baby with the blanket before placing them back in the box.

He then runs to the corner and throws up.

The baby looks like him.

Their eyes are red, their hands and feet and tail have the same color as the arm Leo now has...

All Leo can throw up now is stomach bile.

He can hear the baby crying out for him, and he’s horrified that a part of him wants to go to them, cradle them in his arms, and soothe them.

Leo pinches his arms.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up…”

The baby’s cries grow louder. “Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up. Wake. Up!” he continues, rocking himself back and forth. He ignores the chirps, the crying, the confused noises the baby gives off. Ignores how he wants to go over there and hold them. Ignores everything and anything and simply focuses on waking. Up.

“It’s not real, it’s just a dream, it’s not real, it’s just a dream, it’s not real, it’s just a dream…”

The baby keeps crying. Louder and louder.

“Stop, stop, stop, stop…!”

It isn’t until he feels someone touching his shell – in that same way that makes him briefly relieve that damn fucking beach – that he jolts awake and punches the bastard on the snout.

…

……

………

“Ow,” Donnie says.

Leo blinks.

His brother is sitting in front of him, eyes watery as he holds his snout in his hands. He can see blood trickling through the gaps of his fingers.

“Shit,” he mumbles.

He tries to crawl his way toward Donnie, but his twin stops him with one bloody hand.

“It’s good. It’s fine,” he says. Leo can’t help but scoff at that.

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, well.” Donnie tips his head back, one hand still on his snout. “I should've seen that coming. Physical touch is a no-no for you, you’re easily startled, and you have a mean left hook. Really should’ve seen that coming.” Leo watches his brother make some faces at the ceiling before sniffing loudly. Donnie lets out a hiss. “Hm. Nope. That was a bad idea.”

“Sorry,” he says, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. He scowls slightly at his glove-covered right hand, physical proof that he’s now awake.

“Don’t be. As I said, I should’ve seen that coming.”

He looks around, noticing that his bed (in actuality, it was Donnie’s bed. But Donnie gave it to him after it became clear Leo wasn’t moving back to his own room, and made himself a new one) was unmade, the blanket (it wasn’t blue) appeared to have been haphazardly thrown onto the floor.

Leo opens his mouth to ask what happened, but Donnie (a now new believer of “Twin Telepathy”) beats him to it.

“You had a nightmare. It was bad enough that you threw up on the floor and started shaking.”

“Oh.”

That explained it.

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Donnie says. “Everything you did was a normal reaction.”

Leo doesn’t say anything.

Donnie tilts his head forward to look at him. He stopped bleeding by now, but he looks concerned.

“What, uh, what was it about? The… the nightmare.”

Leo blinks.

What…

… What was his nightmare about?

He…

He couldn’t remember…

“I… I don’t know. I forgot. Sorry-”

“I said to stop apologizing.”

Leo closes his beak.

Donnie sighs and gets up, motioning for Leo to follow him. They walk out of Donnie’s room and into the medbay. Leo tries not to wince at being back here again. It’s his medbay, but… having been here far too many times has put something of a damper on its allure.

“Do you still feel like throwing up?”

Leo nods.

Donnie hands him some antacids and a water bottle. He watches as Donnie moves around to gather some tissues to stuff them up his nostrils.

“What about the… bile in your room?” he asks. Donnie waves his hand dismissively.

“It’s fine. I’ll just send one of the DeeDees to clean it up.”

“The… what?"

“DeeDee!” Donnie says proudly. “Acronym for Disinfectant Droid. It’s an army roomba-like robots I built specifically to handle intestinal messes! Very handy and useful, I will say.”

“Oh.” Of course Donnie would build such a thing. “How many are there?”

“As of right now, a dozen.”

“You’re building more?”

“One never knows.”

Leo finishes up the rest of his water bottle.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” he says, stuffing his right hand into the pocket of his hoodie, and the left into his sweatpants’ pocket.

“And you won’t!” Donnie sweeps his arm in a flourishing movement, leading his twin out of the medbay and into the TV room. “I’ve been hooking this baby up to connect to my computer so we can play all the games I have there without having to grab two chairs and huddle up around the monitor.” He then produces two controllers out of nowhere. “And, luckily for you, I just about finished these bad boys when you woke up.”

Leo looks at the controllers, then at Donnie, then at the massive TV on the wall, then back at Donnie.

“Can we play Minecraft?”

“Absolutely.”

Twenty-five minutes later, Leo is punching a squawking and enraged Donnie into lava, ignoring his threats about how he’ll kill his parrots with a smile.

#cw sa mention #tw sa mention #cw vomit #tw vomit #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #leo hamato #donnie hamato #disaster twins #sonny writes #prime leo au #post prime arc #kirby tag

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nothorses · 1 year

Note

i've had this thought for a while that the internet has evolved into trying to prevent all conflict or getting upset ever, so the preventative measures completely overtake any thought of how to manage conflict and how to react to getting upset.

other than tone indicators, you can see this with the way people treat content warnings. in some spaces (not just small spaces for friends i'm talking discord servers with hundreds if not thousands of members), their content blacklist for stuff that cannot be posted about at all or has to be censored and tagged with warnings include things like: dogs, pictures of the sky, whistling, loud rap music.

you see this on people's caards with their DNI lists and demands on how to interact with them. i saw a minor with a demand to not talk about friends or people you're close to because it makes them furiously jealous.

that thing you said about tone indicators making it so people assume the default is that you're evil and disingenuous really hits the nail on the head. it's a very cruel way to look at people, thinking the worst of them on a flinch instinct if they don't behave in predictable, acceptable ways that you understand at a glance.

people are so avoidant and afraid of conflict or getting upset that they can't sit with discomfort and will make it other people's problems. it's like people forget that they can walk away from a conversation that's making them upset, or work to manage intense reactions when triggered.

Yeah, absolutely. I don't want to be cruel here, either- I think a lot of these attitudes come from trauma and emotional abuse, and I think a lot of these people are hurting and looking for ways to make themselves hurt less.

And I think what's telling is that these methods that are often being employed in an effort to deal with or avoid emotional abuse, are also simultaneously being employed by emotional abusers, or in emotionally abusive ways.

The cycle of abuse isn't just, like, when someone decides to lash out because they got hurt and now they want a turn, too. It's about the strategies you learn for handling your emotions and relationships- the tools you're given by your environment, and the norms you've been taught. Oftentimes, well-intentioned people who are actively trying to establish a healthier way of being will still buy into emotionally abusive norms and ideas; they're just doing their best with the tools they have, after all.

The ideas behind a lot of these patterns, in my opinion, stem from (what I'm gonna call here) "abuse logic": the flawed system of "logic" used to justify abuse. ex:

If you misunderstand me, it means you don't care, don't "get me", or are otherwise failing me in some way.

If I misunderstand you, it means you are failing to communicate properly.

If you make me uncomfortable, you are doing it maliciously and with intent to hurt me, and you must do everything possible to stop and never let it happen again.

If I make you uncomfortable, no I didn't.

If I feel upset by anything you say or do, it's your fault, and you're probably doing it on purpose, and/or you need to do everything possible to never let it happen again.

If you feel upset by anything I say or do, it's your problem. If you tell me about it, you're trying to hurt me on purpose.

I fundamentally cannot trust you to be acting with good intent.

You MUST trust me in all ways at all times.

The nature of "abuse logic" is that it applies to both parties differently, but the core of the logic will be essentially the same: misunderstandings are a moral failing on someone's part, and discomfort is someone's fault and/or a sign of malice, and must be avoided at all costs.

A lot of these are also coping mechanisms, or become coping mechanisms. You might avoid conflict because it has only ever lead to a fight, you might assume everyone is trying to hurt you because it's safer than trusting people, or you might over-enforce your boundaries because it prevents people from taking advantage of you.

The problem is that because these still rely on "abuse logic" (discomfort as violence, someone is always to blame, assumption of ill intent), abusive behavior can still arise from them. Sometimes it's intentional, but sometimes it's just a product of faulty logic.

Tell me if you've ever seen this happen:

A friend of yours has grown up in an environment that normalized this kind of flawed, unhealthy logic (or an outright emotionally abusive one). They eventually realize that they aren't a bad person who deserves this treatment, and begin to see the hypocrisy: why is it that they're always at fault for misunderstandings, regardless of reason? Why is it that they're the only one who needs to change? Why is it that they can be made to feel guilty, but when they bring up problems with someone else, guilt is violence?

They start to feel more and more empowered as they pick apart these issues, and eventually they're establishing boundaries, trusting their own good intentions, and holding others accountable for their mistakes and mistreatment.

And then it keeps going.

Challenging unreasonable boundaries, or even asking for compromise on conflicting boundaries, becomes a sign of malice. Not only are their intentions good, but they can literally do no wrong. Not only are they holding others accountable, but they are actively looking for mistakes, flaws, and malice in everything everyone else does.

They're genuinely trying to protect themselves (and likely others!) in the only way they know how, it's just that this way is rooted in the same logic that caused their own mistreatment. They don't know another way.

I do really think that what we need to be doing is providing alternative solutions. Sometimes they seem obvious enough that we assume people are doing this out of malice- but that's part of the problem!

So if you're feeling like some of this is a little too familiar: "Conflict" is not always an argument. If you run into a problem (misunderstanding, discomfort, hurting someone or being hurt, etc.) your goal is not to assign blame and guilt. Your goal is to work together, as a team, to find a solution that's reasonable for everyone involved- and then move on.

#tone indicators #long post

152 notes · View notes

pamgkrthwrites · 6 months

Text

Touched : Chapter 2 : Waiting

Warning, the following content is for an 18+ audience. If you are under the age of 18 do not read the content below. The following content has themes such as; Angst, Sexual Harassment if you squint, and others. The character(s) depicted within this post are over the age of 20. (This list may get updated with each new Chapter Update)

Support me on Ko-Fi | Sign Up to the Tag List | Masterlist | AO3 Listing

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Bakugou x F!Reader

Themes: Soulmates, Porn with Plot (This list may get updated with each new chapter update)

Summary: Bakugou loves being close to you.

Word Count: 3503

Tag List: @tjmaxx556 @cosmicbreathe @lavender99 @optimisticprime3

A/N: Thank you again to my beta readers "Huntress" and "Ribbon". And thank you Huntress for "approving" this chapter LMFAO

“Good morning, L/N.”

“Good morning, sir.” You smiled weakly at Best Jeanist, trying to ignore the soreness you still felt between your thighs from the night before.

You came to the conclusion that their session last night was more passionate or eager than usual. You didn’t know why or what triggered it, but it must’ve been someone amazing if they broke their side of the unspoken agreement.

Which though saddened by it, you understood it was going to happen.

“You have everything ready?” Hakamada asked, slightly leaning down to better look into your eyes.

You nodded. “I made a PowerPoint last night so you can properly visualise what I mean.”

“Sounds good.” He nods. “Bakugou should be here any moment. He had to deal with some villains on the way here.”

“That’s fine.” You brushed the issue aside. “We can get started when you are both ready, I really don’t mind.”

Best Jeanist looked at your face, thinking deeply. “I think you will be able to handle him if you are able to be patient with him, but I do wonder if you’ll be able to deal with his emotional outbursts.”

You silently cringed, remembering reading a few articles where he yelled at a certain journalist. No one knew the reason why as the guy seemed to keep his mouth shut about it, but the image of Bakugou looming over the reporter and pointing a finger in the guy’s face wasn’t something people were going to forget easily.

Maybe that was something you could bring up too…

“I’m sure I’ll figure him out, Hakamada.”You reassured him. “I won’t be leaving his job anytime soon.”

Best Jeanist watched you, clearly thinking. “You’re not one of those Dynamight fans, are you?”

You let out a short laugh. “No no. I just decided to make the move here because of some personal reasons.”

“Ah.” Is all Best Jeanist would reply with, understanding to drop the topic.

It wasn’t long until Bakugou did finally stepped onto the floor level out of the elevator. His hero mask was pushed up above his hairline, showing his forehead. His eyes almost immediately landed on you, as if searching for something on your face.

When he couldn’t find the answer, he turned to Best Jeanist. “Has the meeting happened yet?” Bakugou asked, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“No, Bakugou. We were waiting for you.” Best Jeanist answered.

Bakugou stiffened. Did he try to skip this meeting on purpose?

“I’ll do my best to make it as quick as possible.” You reassured Bakugou.

Bakugou gave you a look, it wasn’t one of anger or happiness. You couldn’t really read what was on his face, but you knew it wasn’t anger or delight. Whatever it was, it was something that was haunting him.

“Let’s get started then.” Best Jeanist noted as he walked you two into his office where his main secretary was waiting.

The three of them got comfortable in chairs as you pulled up your PowerPoint. You took one last deep breath in to get any lasting nerves out of your system before you began.

“First, I think it would be best if we limit how much access Bakugou has to the Dynamight social media.”

Bakugou froze before quickly his eyebrow started twitching. “What?”

“The Dynamight Twitter is known for ‘going off’ at random people or on topics, so I think it would be a wise choice if I were at least approve of his tweets before he sent them out.”

Bakugou’s eye twitched. “You kidding, right? I ain’t getting my stuff approved.”

“Then we can limit your access altogether and have it as only a brand account.” You counted him, tilting your head slightly.

Bakugou’s eye twitched some more and he started to form an angered expression.

“I think that is a good idea.” Best Jeanist said which resulted in Bakugou snapping his head to him.

“So what? I’m expected to pass by every single post by her?” Bakugou barked out, grinding his teeth.

“Yes.” You answered him.

Bakugou glared at you, his eye twitching. It seemed as if he was expecting this meeting to go one way and not what you were suggesting.

He turned to Best Jeanist’s assistant to see what their opinion was, but they also seemed to have agreed.

Three against one.

Bakugou turned back to you, staring into your eyes with an angry expression as if he was searching for something. He couldn’t find his answer, making him grumble and sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed.

“Fine, I’ll get my posts approved.”

“Thank you.” You said, startling him again. You moved on to the next slide. “We should limit the interviews Bakugou has.”

Bakugou slammed his fist on the table, making a loud bang sound that echoed throughout the room. “What?!”

“Bakugou, calm down.” Best Jeanist sighed. “Could you please explain your logic, L/N?”

“Certainly.” You then clicked on the slide that ended up showing a few graphs. “This graph represents the public’s reaction to Dynamight’s interviews, this one represents Dynamight’s overall fans' reactions, while this final one shows his fan girls' reactions all to interviews that are considered positive. The graphs below them are the same but how do those people react to considered negative interviews.”

Bakugou’s eyes stared at the graphs before sighing and sitting back in his chair, the anger leaving his body.

It was clear from the graphs that he was able to hold and gain fans with the ‘positive’ interviews than the negative ones. The positive ones were interviews replanned and ones he didn’t storm out of.

“If we cater the interviews for Bakugou so he has very few interviews, I think it would lower his chances of outbursts in his interviews and would allow him to have more control over the interviews and fanbase.” You ended that point off, feeling quite confident considering Bakugou’s body language being more relaxed now.

Though it was clear he didn’t like the idea, but given the amount of research you put into this point was proving to him that your point wasn’t baseless. He wasn’t going to change himself for interviews, that much was obvious. So instead of Bakugou changing the interview, you would have to change the interview.

Bakugou had been in different types of interviews, and though some caused more of his temper-raged reactions than others, it was still the interview itself causing the issue. Therefore, the only solution was to remove interviews from the equation. The problem with that is now fans won’t be able to see their favourite hero, that’s what interviews were good for.

So, limit the amount of interviews he goes to which will lower the chances of how many outbursts he gets from said interviews. Instead of three bad interviews that happened after he took down a villain out of twelve in one week, he could have one bad interview after only having twelve in one year.

The main thing though that tipped Bakugou over to agree was just the sassy little know-it-all tone you had in your voice. The way you were holding yourself up and standing as if you owned the office. Bakugou was trying his damn hardest not to stare at your hips or thighs cause holy fucking shit he wanted to so bad be in between those-

“The last thing I want to suggest is more photoshoots.” Your voice broke Bakugou's train of thought.

You saw Bakugou’s blonde eyebrow narrow and scrunch. “No.” Bakugou said with a slight growl.

“It would help hold your fan girls-”

“I said no.”

You let out a silent sigh. Bakugou wasn’t going to budge and you could feel it with the tension that was filling the room. Maybe in the future, you could try to have him agree to have photoshoots for the Dynamight merch. You tried to imagine him in some Dynamight merch and come up with an idea, but the image of Bakugou in baggy jeans and a tight compressed black shirt sends a wave of lust down to your core.

Bakugou takes a sudden and noticeable sharp breath in before raising an eyebrow at you, as if he could tell you just had a fantasy wash into your mind. It left you confused admittedly.

Regardless, you quickly shut down that image within your head. “Alright, we won’t do that.” You said, closing that option for Bakugou.

Best Jeanist tapped a finger on his knee. “Is that all, L/N?” He asked.

“Yes, those were my ideas to at least help with the Dynamight PR.” You answered him.

Your job was going mostly answering emails, helping with paperwork, answering phone calls, and making sure Bakugou got to appointments on time. Yeah sure you were going to have to manage him and you now having access to your social media to make sure his PR stays in check will be helpful, but that wasn’t what assistants or secretaries do.

The only reason why you needed to ‘prove’ yourself and have these ideas at the ready was not just to prove you were capital at your job, but also to show you could think on the spot. Because everyone knew how hard it was to work with Bakugou, and if you couldn’t adapt then you weren’t going to get along easily with him.

At least his looks made him easy to look at.

At least to you.

You may not know the reason why Bakugou didn’t want to do photoshoots, but you tell by how Best Jeanist merely glanced at Bakugou and seemed to brush off Bakugou’s reaction told you that he knew. If Best Jeanist knew then it was safe to say it was safe to just leave the topic there, even if you thought the idea would work out.

Best Jeanist stood up, making his assistant and Bakugou stand up in follow. “Then let’s leave it there. You know how to get around everything, right?”

“Of course.” You answered him, quickly gathering up your belongings.

“Good, just dive right in then.” He said before opening the door, encouraging you and Bakugou to leave his office.

You and Bakugou stood outside of Best Jeanist office and the man closed the door. You started walking towards where your two’s office was, making Bakugou quickly follow behind you with a slight thump to his step. He grumbled, with his upper lip twitching as he followed.

“I don’t like being the one following.” He barked.

“Then hurry up.” You sassed back at him with a slight smile.

Bakugou grumbled, fastening up his pace. “Don’t be sassy with me, L/N. You’ll regret it later.”

“Is that a threat?” You raised your eyebrow at him as you two reached your office door.

Once you open it and walk, Bakugou leans on the door frame, looking down at you with a look that sends a shiver down your spine and warmth rushing to your core. Your reaction makes Bakugou chuckle, and something about his chuckle makes a wet puddle start to form in your panties.

“You're really having that sort of reaction while we are at work?” He asks with a smirk.

“What are you talking about?” You ask him, sounding a bit frustrated not just because of the growing sexual tension on your end, but also because he wasn’t making any sense of anything.

He leaned closer to your face, where you could now feel his hot breath on the skin of your neck. You bit the inside of your mouth, trying to hold in your desire, but you could feel your soulmate’s desire rising too.

“You really don’t know?” He asked.

“Know what?” You barked back, trying to keep on top of your sexual desires right now.

“Hm.” Bakugou let out before walking into your office, closing and locking the door behind him.

You stepped back until you reached your desk. You thought that you would be flooded with fear but no. Instead, the feeling of lust and desire seemed to have been rushing throughout your entire body.

The way Bakugou stalked closer to you, the way his hero suit gripped his body to give you an outline of your abs and chest, the way his biceps seemed to pulse as he caged you to your desk. Your lungs were filled with lust for Bakugou at this very moment, making you look up at him weakly through your lashes.

What made your sexual want- no… Your sexual need for Bakugou so much harder was that you could feel your soulmate’s lust in return, sexual urge and need for something you had no way of knowing. You could feel it was driving them insane, and you could feel your soulmate’s boner through the soulmate bond.

Then you felt Bakugou’s boner on your thigh.

You also felt through the soulmate bond that your’s soulmate’s cock was touching someone’s thigh.

Bakugou was…

Bakugou was your soulmate.

Bakugou must’ve seen something in your face that gave it away to him, because now he had a knowing grin on his face as he leaned closer. Your noses almost touching and his hot breath on your lips.

“You figured it out now, Y/N?” He asked.

Your name felt so right coming off his tongue, it felt like sweet honey dripping into your ears. Your body felt the desire to touch him, kiss him, hold him, be under him.

You gulped, trying to hold back your natural desire for him while you were still at work at the very least.

“When did you figure it out?” You asked him weakly.

“When you were leaving work.” He answered truthfully. “I’ve never had a physical attraction for anyone before and yet when I saw you it was instant luring. It only hit me when you were talking away, my attention all on your ass.”

You breathe in sharply and deeply as Bakugou’s head lowers to your neck. Another spark of arousal as he starts to softly kiss your neck. You know he’s holding back because of the soulmate bond, and you know he can feel your enjoyment through the soulmate bond.

You softly pushed your hands onto his chest to push him off. Bakugou regretfully obeys your wishes, pulling away from you.

He looks down at you with eyes you cannot read. He scoffs and looks away. “Right, I forgot for a second there.”

Without giving you a chance to explain yourself, you watch him turn around and leave your office, closing the door harshly behind himself.

Your heart felt as if it was squeezing and every drop of blood from your heart was leaking throughout yout body. It genuinely felt worse then when you broke up with your ex or found out he was cheating on you. You weren’t rejected by your soulmate, but more it felt awful that you hurt him somehow.

Probably because of not waiting for him and having not just a relationship before you met him, but you had sex with that person before you met him.

You felt gross. You felt disgusted with yourself.

You took a deep breath in and then out again. There wasn’t anything you could do about the situation. You can’t try to find a new job so quickly after getting this one, plus you need the money until you are properly settled.

Shit how were you going to tell your parents?

You took a deep breath in, held it, and then let go.

You can deal with that when you get home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You groaned slightly as you left your office with your bag on your shoulder. You made your way to lift, though you could hear his footsteps approaching you at a fast pace.

“Sneaking off, are we?” Through his angry grumbled tone, Bakugou's voice felt cold in your ears.

You felt your heart ping, silently wincing as you pressed the lift button. “It’s just time for me to head home is all.”

You didn’t see his face but you could feel his glare at the back of your head. “...Right.”

You walked into the lift, and so did Bakugou. You tried to keep your eyes off of him but knew that even if his body was also facing towards the door his eyes were glued onto you.

After the doors closed and after the lift started moving, you heard the tapping of his foot. You quickly glanced at him, which seemed to give him permission to speak.

“Who is the bastard then?” He asked.

You blinked. “Pardon?”

“5 and a third inches you’ve fucked for 2 years. Who is he?”

You felt blood rush to your cheeks. You quickly looked away as your hands fiddled with your bag.

Bakugou didn’t seem to like that reaction, scoffing.

“... I broke up with him once I got the job here…” You finally answered Bakugou with a weak voice.

Bakugou seemed to be less tense from that answer, though he still clearly wasn’t happy. “Couldn’t do long distance or was he a distraction?”

You bit the inside of your mouth, taking a breath in before answering him. “He cheated on me.”

Bakugou fell silcent. You expect him to say something rude or hurtful, but instead, he was just silent. He turned away and crossed his arms, one of his fingers tapping on one of his biceps.

“That must’ve been difficult.” Is all he said.

He wasn’t being rude or hurtful or pushing you down. He didn’t say ‘That’s what you get for not waiting’. Though, he clearly wasn’t thrilled about it either. Even if he had been angry you had slept with someone else, you were still his soulmate. He may not be able to feel your emotions or write to you on his skin, but there was still some connection between you two.

“...It’s actually why I moved here.” You broke the silence. “I didn’t want anyone or him to know I found out, so I found a job far away from him and used that as an excuse.”

Bakugou’s tapping stop, thinking. “...Guess there is one thing to be grateful I guess.” Bakugou mumbled quietly to himself.

Though selfish, Bakugou was happy you weren’t going to sleep with someone else anymore. He hated how it felt, how it felt feeling someone else thrust into you. It was the most disgusting feeling he had ever felt. You enjoying someone else’s cock and he had to feel it, the whole way through.

But looking down at you and seeing the sadness in your eyes?

He didn’t know you, all he knew was the bond that made you two connect. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He might not have liked the situation but you were still his soulmate. You two were tied together by the fates themselves, and if there was going to be anyone to see you naked again it was going to be him.

“...I’ll walk you home.” Bakugou stated.

You looked up at him with a surprised look. “What? No you don’t have to-”

“I said I’ll walk you home.” Bakugou’s sounded deep and husky, making you quiet your voice.

Bakugou wasn’t asking, you could tell by how his back was straight, his voice booming against the elevator walls and how his eyes looked at you.

You self small - and submissive - under his eyes.

Under his glare.

You looked away and forced yourself not to get horny again, thinking about something that happened to you as a kid that still makes you angry. When you got aroused in the past, you knew your soulmate could feel it but you didn’t know their reactions. They were just a faceless person who you’d maybe meet one day.

But now you knew who it was, it was Bakugou. Practically your boss, had a known temper, and was standing right next to you.

And fuck it he looked hot too!

You took a deep breath in and kept your eyes on the elevator door, trying to keep yourself distracted from his cologne. His presence was becoming overwhelming. You couldn’t help but wonder if this reaction was because you now knew, because of your soulmate bond, or you genuinely found him attractive.

You felt warm breath on your ear, making you shiver. You look up at Bakugou, seeing his face so close to yours now. Your eyes went to the right side of his face where the explosion scar was imprinted on his beautiful face.

“I know because of the nature of our soul bond, we will have a hard time holding back our desires for each other.” Bakugou whispered into your ear while trailing a hand up your back. “But, if you can hold it in until we get to your place, I’ll reward your patience.”

You felt your face grow out and a pool of wetness form in your panties. Your mind couldn’t help but wonder what this reward would be. Bakugou - as if he could read your mind - chuckles.

“I told you to be patient.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #soulmate #soulmate au #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #x reader

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pandoraslxna · 1 year

Text

Aging up characters and questionable content

Theres a lot of drama going on in the avatar fandom and I just wanted to elaborate my opinion on this, since it affects me and my works too.

I‘m trying to be as respectful as possible and chose my words wisely because I really don’t want to get canceled or upset people.

First of all, I just want to make it clear that everyone is entitled to have their own opinion, especially about sensitive topics like these and I fully respect that!

I have a few mutuals and I also follow a handful of other great authors who consider aging up minor characters as questionable and that’s absolutely fine with me. As long as you don’t treat me as less than a human, you will always have my full respect. I‘m always trying to be friendly to everyone and I obviously still support your works, even if we don’t share the same opinion on this.

I also don’t force them or literally anyone to consume my content and I know that some of my mutuals (probably most) only follow me for my fics about characters that are canonly adults (Jake, Quaritch, Tonowari, etc…) and I don’t mind that either.

I do my best to make sure that my fics are tagged properly, that I use the correct content warnings and also the 'read more' option, so everyone who’s not interested in certain posts can simply ignore them. I’m also always up for constructive criticism and please don’t hesitate to let me know if I didn’t include any important warnings on my fics or if there are any triggers that I forgot to mention.

What I’m trying to say is: I appreciate if people just scroll past content they’re not interested in. If I can do it, you can do too. No matter how questionable some fics may be, nobody is forcing you to consume them. As long as the author tags their fics properly, of course!

Which is why I‘m also speaking up to every author out there: tag your fic properly! Make sure people can avoid your works if they contain anything that could be triggering– that goes from soft to explicit smut, to non-con, to dub-con and to literally any kinks, AU’s and tropes there are. Give your readers a warning beforehand, so they know what they’re about to consume. And please, please, please make sure to use the 'read more' option on tumblr (this is very important to me personally too)! And if someone points out that there are warnings or tags missing on your fics, please appreciate that they’re reaching out to you, I‘m sure their intentions were good. It really doesn’t hurt to include some more tags, even if they seem 'unnecessary' to you -> better safe than sorry!

Just be mindful of each other and treat everyone with respect, so we can all avoid any unwanted and most of all unnecessary drama and enjoy this fandom together.

Now, back to the main topic of this post:

I personally don’t view this type of content (or myself) as predatory or necessarily wrong, just because the characters are aged up. I‘m fully aware that sexualizing minors is wrong and it’s not my intention to create sexual scenarios about underage characters! To me, this is all just fiction. They’re not real. They’re literally blue aliens lol. I also consume and produce dark content like non-con and even stepcest au‘s, but that is something I would never ever support or want to experience in real life!!! I really can’t stress this enough, this is just fictional to me. And just because I age up characters or think they’re attractive in the movie, doesn’t mean I’m attracted to minors in real life. (I‘m not even attracted to guys that are only a year younger than me…)

I‘m also not aging them up to make myself feel better or because I think it makes the whole situation morally right, I’m aging them up because I’m only attracted to guys that are my age (or even older), which is basically the complete opposite of a pedophile as far as I know (?). I really hope that somehow makes sense and I’m not digging my own grave here…

However, I really can’t say this enough: I am absolutely fine that people have different opinions about that and if you’re following me and I ever post something that makes you uncomfortable, even if we’re mutuals/friends, you can unfollow or block me! I just want people to be comfortable on my blog and don’t force anyone to see content that is triggering to them or goes against their believes.

What I don’t support however, is people making fun of others publicly. Talk however you want about my work in private, idc. You can send me a DM if you want to say something, but please don’t encourage others to make fun of me, my works or others.

If you ever accidentally read something, because let’s say the author didn’t mention certain kinks / tropes or literal anything that’s triggering to you beforehand— reach out to them in private. And authors on the other hand, should be mindful of the content that they create and give people the option to avoid them. But please don’t cause public drama, don’t cause a literal witch-hunt. Online bullying can really fuck up peoples lives and mental health.

I think most drama could’ve been avoided if people were just more respectful towards one another and would handle things in private.

I really really hope that I chose the right words for this, as someone who’s not fluent in english it can be so hard to defend myself or get my point across lol

Last but not least, I just want to say thank you, especially to all my mutuals who continue to be respectful towards me, even if they have other opinions regarding the aging up of characters and all that. I‘m just glad that you’re here and chose to enjoy my other works instead. ❤️

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